Between Love And Hate
by GodGudKami
Summary: Lawrence finds himself at a loss of what to do when he and Adam's relationship is almost destroyed by a senseless fight. Desperate, Lawrence finds himself at Adam's disposal. Adam/Lawrence, SLASH, mild bondage/dominant&submissive nothing too unbearable .
1. Chapter 1

**Well, I've written a new fanfic (don't worry; I'm still writing my I Learned To Love Again one), and it's a little strange. To be honest, I was a little inspired by OEgirl's (OneShot?), He Knew It. This fanfic is a little like it in the first chapter, but it was just inspired by HKI, and is not a rip-off (I hope XD). Basically, in this fanfic, Adam actually gets to be the dominant one for once! I agree with most ChainShippers that Lawrence should be the dominant and Adam the submissive, but a little change is okay sometimes, right? In any case, please enjoy, and review, or... Or else!**

**1. You Hurt the Ones You Love**

He was all Lawrence wanted, all he needed, he was all he had and all he'd ever ask for.

He was the only one who'd ever bothered to help him through the hardest year of his life. Without him, Lawrence would've been dead, if not in the bathroom, then afterwards, during that time when he'd been drowning, when the darkness in the room had seemed to envelop him in his own fear and his own nightmares, and all he'd managed to do was put his hands over his eyes and whimper like a child, because he couldn't understand, didn't understand why it couldn't just _stop_!

Then he'd been there. Adam had been there.

The cool little hands on his shoulders had been there, his hands had been there to pull Lawrence's own away from his ears, replace them with the soft, warm little lips, the blue velvet words.

_  
It'll be fine, Lawrence. You made it out, didn't you? And I'm here now, I'll get you through this... I_ will, _man..._

And then, slim arms around Lawrence's waist, drifting into sleep with him, and Lawrence had managed to think, even if he'd been half-unconscious and delirious with his own nightmares, that maybe things would be okay.

And if they had been, it'd be all because of him. Because of Adam.

So Lawrence had no idea why he did this.

He had no idea why he was on one side of the room, and Adam on the other, when only seconds ago, those thin arms had been around his neck, hugging, clutching desperately, because Adam had been scared. He'd been scared then, and he was scared now, and Lawrence completely understood why. He was scared, too.

He was scared of the rage that welled up in his chest, scared of the throbbing in his ears and the scarlet color that he knew was all over his face. And he was so angry. And he had absolutely no reason to be so. All Adam had wanted was some comfort. All he'd done was things Lawrence had done, too. All he'd done was to walk up to Lawrence, put those thin little arms around his neck, wet the front of his cheeks with his tears, all he'd said were those words:

_  
Larry, if you don't get me through this, I swear to God, no one will._

No one would.

And Lawrence couldn't handle that. Couldn't stand seeing Adam like this -- weak, clinging, needing comfort -- because it just wasn't the way Adam was supposed to be.

Adam was supposed to stand tall, all the time, always be strong enough to be able to deal with not only his own problems, but also Lawrence's.

Because Lawrence couldn't do it. Didn't he know that, hadn't he gotten that after listening to the older man's fucking sobbing every goddamned night?

Lawrence couldn't take care of Adam. Lawrence couldn't take care of Adam, because for God's sake, he couldn't even take care of himself! He couldn't, and how the hell could Adam expect him to, how could he expect him to fix anything at all when he was so horribly broken himself?!

Lawrence could get through the days if he knew he could see Adam at night. Lawrence could get through the nights if Adam was there to hold him, if Adam was there to mend everything that was ruined, if he was there to look at the broken pieces of the life Lawrence had worked so hard for at his feet, and not judge him for it.

And now, Adam had stepped off that part. Only for a second.

Only for a second.

And that was why they were standing this way now. That was why they were standing further away from each other than they'd been since they'd gotten out of that bathroom, further away than they'd _dared_ to be from each other before now, and Lawrence was furious, and Adam was scared, and everything, _everything_ was the exact opposite of the way it was supposed to be.

"Lawrence..." Adam murmured, his voice choked with tears. He was pressing himself against the opposite wall of their kitchen, as though it were the only thing keeping him from tumbling forwards, onto the cold, dirty floor. Lawrence turned away, unable to look the young man in the eyes, the eyes that always had to be dry and confident, but that now were as wet and terrified as his.

"Shut up! Just shut the fuck _up_!" Lawrence yelled, punching the side of the wall he was facing. "You have no fucking idea what... How scared I... Just shut up!"

Lawrence stayed facing the wall, breathing hard and fast to try to keep some control. It didn't seem to be working, though. Especially since, two seconds later, he felt Adam move from his corner and walk over to him, move to stand in front of him. He didn't want that, either. Right now, he just wanted to be as far away from that damn photographer as he could.

"You don't think it was hard for me, too?!" Adam demanded, reaching out and grabbing his lover's shoulder. Lawrence suppressed a snarl with difficulty as the kid forced him roughly around to face him.

The sight of Adam standing there, tears falling fast and uncontrollably from his beautiful, grey eyes, and his mouth, the mouth that Lawrence had kissed more times than he could count, turned down into a glare of resentment and shattered trust, made Lawrence want to rush forwards and grab him, pull him into his arms and hug him, make his hurting stop. But he couldn't. Anger didn't go away just because you wanted it to.

So, he kept talking. Like a fucking idiot, he kept talking, even though he knew he was going to say something he would regret.

"Who's the one that has to sit with you when you go to the bathroom?!" he snapped back, not knowing nor caring how these words would affect the younger man. "Who's the one that has to sit with you four times a day, because you're too fucking chicken-shit to piss or shit by yourself anymore?!"

Adam's face seemed to fall at these words, and his hand dropped slowly from Lawrence's shoulder. He couldn't stop the rage, though. No amount of hurt or betrayal could do that.

"Who's the one who made me so fucking scared of those rooms?!" Adam shouted, clenching his fists and knowing full-well that Jigsaw was the reason he was terrified of bathrooms, not Lawrence.

Not that it mattered. If that was the only leverage he had in this conversation, he would take it in a heartbeat. "Who's the one who shot me?! Shot a fucking bullet into me, while I was begging you not to, begging you to live?! All because you fucked up and wanted a second chance with that cunt and stupid bitch-kid of yours--"

Adam's voice was suddenly cut off by Lawrence's hand hitting his face, _hard_. The shock of this almost made Adam lose his balance and topple onto the floor, but he managed to keep his footing. Outside, at least. Inside, it felt like every part of him was collapsing, collapsing then shattering, shattering then breaking, breaking then burning... _Burning_... So painful...

"Don't talk about them like that, Adam," Lawrence said quietly, and somehow, his quiet, subdued tone was even worse than the yelling. "Don't talk about them at all, in fact. You're not worth half of them. Not to me, not to anyone. I'd shoot you again for them, or for anyone, just about. You're barely worth the air you breathe."

Adam stood for a few moments, his face pale with shock, except for the ugly, red mark on his left cheek where Lawrence had struck him. He tried to speak, and found that he was unable to. Lawrence couldn't have meant that, he _couldn't_ have...

"All the people that fucking psychopath chose to participate in his "games,"" Lawrence continued, staring coldly at the freelance photographer as he spoke, "all of them... None of them deserved what they got, none of them were guilty of anything, except a few harmless mistakes. But you... You were different, Adam."

_No! No, no, no! What the fuck are you saying to him, you fucking idiot?! You're angry! People say stupid things when they're angry! Just leave it alone! Go and cool off for a few hours, think things through. You'll regret it if you--_

"You're a fucking waste of space and life, Adam!" Lawrence said, his voice rising again. "You followed people around and took pictures of them, fucked their lives up! All because you were jealous! Jealous of the fact that your life was a fucking mess! A fucking waste! Jigsaw must have had a brief moment of sanity when he picked you, because you fucking deserved everything you got!"

_You idiot. You fucking idiot._

"I should have left you there!" Lawrence spat, too angry now to see the expression on Adam's face, much less care about it. "I should have left your worthless ass in there to rot like it deserved! I should have _killed_ you with that shot! I shouldn't have given a shit when I thought I had! You're _less_ than a fucking insect, Adam! Less than a fucking _insect_!"

And at this, not even Adam -- sharp-tongued, witty Adam, the way he was and that Lawrence _loved_ him -- could give an immediate response. His eyes just widened, the steel in them snapped with a sharp sound, his mouth dropped open, but he didn't really get why he had to say something, because this wasn't Lawrence, it wasn't Lawrence saying this.

Lawrence said things in hot murmurs against Adam's neck, in desperate whimpers at night when he just needed someone to comfort him, and this wasn't him. The angry, evil, and yet so desperately _broken_ creature in front of Adam wasn't him.

So Adam put his hands around Lawrence's neck, moved one step closer, in attempt of intimacy, in an attempt to make everything okay again.

"Lawrence," Adam mumbled, bowed his head a little, "it's okay... I know you don't mean it, just..."

"The fuck would you know!" Lawrence hissed, tearing the younger man's hands away. "You don't know _shit!_ I... How can you..."

A deep breath. And then the next sentence, not a high-pitched yell, but a soft growl, a white-hot piece of iron that left its scorching marks on Adam's skin.

"You can't fucking expect me to _take care_ of you," Lawrence stated. Every syllable was hammered out, forced. "It's time you _get your fucking act together_ and get a life of your own. Not come running up and wanting to be a part of mine."

To this, it wasn't hard to find an answer at all.

_"Really?" _Adam spat out, his head straightening up in plain rage. "Lawrence, you're full of it. _I_ can't expect _you_ to take care of me, but I'm the one who's going to put you to sleep again every night when _you_ have a fucking nightmare, so you can go to work next day and pretend to be Mr. Calm Collected Doctor? Is that it? Fuck, why are we even _having_ this discussion? You _love_ me, whether the hell you like it or not and no matter how fucking weird and confusing it is!

And you can go right the fuck ahead and try to live without me, but then you'd be stuck with your goddamned wife, and you wouldn't handle that! She doesn't cure those fucking nightmares, Lawrence! And I wouldn't handle it either, because I _fucking_ love you, too! So just... Just drop this, okay?"

He thought that this would break Lawrence down, that words that actually came from his heart would open Lawrence's up again, because now, it seemed to have slammed shut, that things would go back to normal. Because things had been so good.

But no. No.

Lawrence just grabbed Adam's arm, twisted, nails digging into his skin, and the ocean in the surgeon's eyes was on fire, furiously burning, just like the words he hissed out.

"I wouldn't be able to live without you?"

Angrier than Adam had ever seen him.

"Well, _fucking_ watch me," with another twist on the arm. "Because let me tell you this, Adam: It's been a while since Allison was as willing as you, and by God, that's been handy those hard times. But as for love: None. There was none. Get it? I never loved you. I settled for you."

He meant none of this. Lawrence loved Adam, he loved him more than anything else in the world, he was all he wanted and all he needed, he was all he had and all he'd ever ask for.

But right now, he hated Adam. He hated him because Adam had asked him to be strong. And he wasn't. That had never been more obvious than now. Lawrence hated Adam, he hated him too much to even stay and see what effect his words had had on him.

He hated Adam enough to turn around, let go of his arm, walk out the door and slam it shut, leaving Adam drowning in words he hadn't meant and himself furiously wiping cheeks from something he refused to admit was tears.

Adam became aware gradually that he had sunk to his knees. The cold, almost piercing feel of the bare tiles that made up the apartment's kitchen made the young man realize, more than anything, just how real the situation was. Of course, the red mark on his cheek where Lawrence had struck him helped with that, too.

_It's not a dream. It's not a dream. Lawrence actually said those things. He actually did. He really hates you._

Adam felt a sudden wave of unbearable nausea wash over him, and he staggered to his feet, clawing half-blindly at the air with his hands until they closed around his bathroom door, which he promptly yanked open and stumbled into the room beyond. The toilet lay in the corner of the minute room, and Adam, on his hands and knees now, made towards it, leaning over the seat's rim once he'd reached it.

Fragments of the grilled cheese sandwich he'd hand for lunch and the egg and bacon pie that had been his breakfast were deposited painfully into the toilet, along with several body fluids and acids that burnt the throat as they went up. Adam coughed painfully a few times, his entire body shaking with reluctant sobs, then leant back against the base of the toilet, staring out ahead of him blankly.

Funny. Usually, he couldn't stand being in a bathroom for longer than he had to be. Hell, he couldn't even do a piss without Lawrence there to get him through it. That was why he'd gotten into the habit of doing liquid deliveries in the backyard, instead. He only came into the bathroom for solids. And showers, of course, but Lawrence rarely complained when Adam asked him to join him in the shower. Obviously.

Adam clenched his teeth angrily, though the tears still ran uncontrollably down his face with no sign of stopping, and his body still shook. After everything he'd done for that ungrateful bastard, all the things he'd said and done for him, all the comforting words he'd murmured to him when he'd woken up in the middle of the night, screaming his stupid head off.

Even though Adam had gone through more than he ever had, even though he, unlike Lawrence, had actually been left in that horrible place, left there to die, had actually _thought_ for a few terrifying hours before help had arrived that he would die...

And now Adam had asked for one thing, just _one_ thing -- a little comfort, a little support, and perhaps even for Lawrence stop lying to himself and everyone else and divorce Allison, stop telling her that he was on late-shifts when he was staying over at the younger man's house -- and what had happened? Lawrence had snapped, completely snapped.

Adam balled his fists tightly, anger seeping through him, comfortingly replacing the hurt and anguish.

_You think what you went through in that bathroom was painful, Lawrence?_ he thought coldly, lowering his head slightly so that he was staring at the dirty, unattractive floor of his bathroom.

_That was nothing compared to what I went through. And it was less than nothing compared to what I'm going to do to you when you come back, crawl back here to apologize and say you didn't mean what you said... Because I've had enough. I've had enough, Lawrence, and things _are_ going to change, one way or another._

And then, perhaps what would seem strange to the average observer, Adam lifted his head and smiled, the tears still falling from his eyes.

**Oooh... You've really done it now, Lawrence. Adam is MAD! And he is going to GET you! Sexually, of course. Otherwise this fanfic would be no fun at all to write. XD Anyway, review and see what happens!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Okay, I know that Lawrence was the biggest bastard in the history of the world in the last chapter, but you know I'd never make him that way unless I had a reason, right? And the reason… Well, the reason was that I wanted to write THIS chapter! And I did! And if this doesn't bring a reason to Lawrence being evil in its purets form, I don't know what does!**

**2. The Tables Have Turned**

Lawrence didn't bother knocking, he just turned the door knob and stumbled into the tiny, smoked-up apartment beyond.

_Adam..._

How the fuck could he have said that? How the hell could he have been so irresponsible?

_I should have left you there!_

His own yelling voice echoed in his head.

He knew that Adam saw a goddamn shrink. He knew that he was the only one Adam had, he knew about the nightmares, the fear, the tears, all of which the kid had blotted out, blotted out as much as he could so that he could better comfort Lawrence. And still he had said that... Even though he didn't even mean it. He loved Adam, he really did, with all of his heart, more than anything else. More than he had ever loved Allison, and still he had said something like that.

"Adam!" he said loudly, walking through the small, messy rooms one after another in search of his lover.

No response. The apartment was dead.

"Adam!"

God, he was a sissy. His throat already burned with sobs. And he hadn't even found anything yet.

_But maybe you will,_ a voice in his head said snidely. _Maybe you'll find Adam with a pale, bloodless face, with raw wounds on his wrists... And that would be your fault, Dr. Gordon._

No. It couldn't be that way. It couldn't.

"Adam! You home?"

_Adam... I didn't mean it... You can't..._

He found Adam in the bedroom, and when he did, he almost wished that he hadn't.

Adam's face was splotchy with tears, tears Lawrence knew he'd exhorted, and the red mark of a strong hand...

Lawrence almost looked away, if not because of anything else, because he wanted to get away from the guilt that had washed over him like a tidal wave. But still, he was relieved. Adam hadn't killed himself, he was just a little shaken up, and Lawrence knew he could take care of that.

He'd comforted Adam so many times, he'd held him and rocked him like a baby all those early nights when he had woken up screaming from his nightmares, before his own despair and fear had settled in more strongly, and Adam had had to be the one to comfort _him_. When had that changed? When had they switched roles like that, and why had they? Was Adam just stronger, or was he better at concealing his emotions, or...

The younger barely seemed to notice that the surgeon had entered his apartment. He just sat there, sitting on his bed and leaning his body against the wall, and didn't react at all when Lawrence sat down in front of him.

"Jesus, Adam..." Lawrence mumbled insecurely, and laid a hand on his leg.

No reaction.

"Adam, I..."

He was cut off. He wasn't sure how it happened, the only thing he felt was a yanking in the hand that was on the leg, and then, Lawrence was suddenly the one who was pinned against the wall, and Adam's body weight was upon him, with his hips on his own, his legs on both sides of him.

Adam was straddling him, he had his wrists pinned to the bed behind him, and Lawrence found himself completely helpless.

"It took you fucking forever to get back here," Adam said, his mouth teasingly close to the older man's. "And, now that you actually are here, you're going to shut up. Not make a sound. Okay?"

Lawrence struggled feebly, shocked by this sudden outburst. He turned his head to the side as much as he possibly could while the rest of him was being weighed down. He saw Adam's face. There was a strange, hungry look in his eyes, though the look of hurt and betrayal never left it.

Adam moved his head slightly so that his mouth was against the nape of Lawrence's neck, and bit down, quite hard. It wasn't an agonizing pain, but Lawrence could feel a few drops of blood beginning to trickle down from where his lover was working.

Panting, Adam drew away, his grip on the older man's arms tightening and his legs around his waist squeezing. To his horror, Lawrence heard a low moan escape his own mouth. The way Adam was acting was completely unexpected, and lustfully aggressive, but, God... He had never felt more turned on in his life. Through his dazed condition, he suddenly felt the freelance photographer's mouth close to his ear, and stopped struggling.

"What part of "not make a sound" didn't you understand, Lawrence?" Adam asked in a low voice.

His heart pounding in his chest and a strange roaring beginning to start up in his ears, it took the older man a few moments to understand the question. Once he had, though, he began to struggle again, desperate to gain at least some control, but he was held fast.

"Don't move," Adam almost growled, gripping his lover's wrists painfully hard.

"I'm sorry," Lawrence said, sincerely, and stopped fighting to overpower the man who was restraining him.

Satisfied, Adam began running his tongue along the side of Lawrence's neck, gently this time, while still straddling him passionately with his legs. Lawrence stayed as still and quiet as he possibly could, though he couldn't help emitting a few low moans from time to time. Whenever he did, Adam would give him a slightly aggressive bite or squeeze, which only made the surgeon want him more.

"Adam..." Lawrence almost whimpered after this had gone on for a few minutes, daring to wriggle his wrists a little in a fruitless attempt to free himself.

"Shut up," Adam muttered, almost lovingly, and ran his tongue over his lover's throat. "You have to play by the rules. Remember who said that?"

Lawrence had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from shivering.

_I'm a sick man,_ he thought as he felt the warm wetness of Adam's tongue against the crook of his neck. _I'm married to Allison, an absolutely gorgeous woman, and I haven't been able to feel attracted to her since... What, our honeymoon?_

Adam started to playfully nibble on his earlobe, and even though Lawrence really hated not being in control, he never wanted this feeling to end.

_I can't be turned on by her, and what am I being turned on by instead? I'm being turned on by a man. Or, not even a man. A boy, who for some reason is incredibly arousing when he bites me until I'm bleeding._

Lawrence felt Adam licking up the tiny drops of blood from his neck. He wanted to kiss him, but the dominant seemed to be determined to tease his bitch for as long as he could. And, by God, how could so much strength fit in such a small man? Lawrence had always thought that he could snap Adam in half like a toothpick, but now, he was absolutely incapable of moving.

_Or maybe you don't want to move,_ a voice in his mind said, but Lawrence pretended not to hear it.

"Whose rules do I have to play by?" he mumbled, but was immediately reminded by a pricking pain from the aggressor's teeth in his shoulder.

Finally, Adam looked up. He was nose to nose with him again, but he still wouldn't kiss him. His eyes, which were usually a nice mixture of blue and grey, were suddenly dark, almost black with lust, and dangerously smoldering.

"My rules," he said simply. "I never explained those to you?"

Lawrence knew not to answer. And the next second, Adam had pressed his lips against his, so it didn't really matter either way.

The man on top of him was still in control, and he had gone from being soft and gentle to becoming almost violent, thrusting his tongue deep into his mouth, and Lawrence responded hungrily to the oh-so-wanted contact. He wanted to move his hands, but his wrists were still locked in a hard grip.

When Adam pulled away, Lawrence almost cried in frustration. He'd thought his anxiety would be at least a little soothed after a kiss, but it turned out that it just got worse. Now, when he'd tasted that damn kid's familiar mix of tobacco and cheap beer, his entire body ached for more.

"My rules," Adam said, "is mainly about you not talking, moving, or doing anything without my permission."

And with those words, he shifted both Lawrence's wrists to one hand, while with the other he lingered near the hem of his shirt. Lawrence nodded and felt Adam's fingers slip under his clothing and touch his stomach, so unbearably lightly.

"And what are you allowed to do, then?"

Adam smiled devilishly, took his hand from under Lawrence's shirt, and started to unbutton it, one button at a time. Way too slowly.

"I can do whatever I want."

He opened up the last button and longingly drew his hand over his lover's chest.

"And right now, I almost feel like raping you."

Lawrence felt his blood run cold at these words, but at the same time, to his disgusted surprise, he felt the lower part of him begin to twitch in anticipation. He bit down on his tongue to stop himself from crying out, but he could do nothing to stop the violent shivering of his body, which had started when the younger man's hand had begun to touch his bare skin.

Adam's free hand was slowly fingering the older man's left nipple now, which hardened as soon as the contact was made. His tongue was moving lazily over the bite-marks on Lawrence's neck, stopping any more blood from escaping. Lawrence could feel his heart rate increasing at every moment. He longed so much for Adam to just cut the act and just have his way with him. Or, in his words, to "rape" him.

He felt ashamed for wishing for such a thing, but he couldn't help it. This new, dominant man was something he'd never imagined his sweet little Adam to turn into, and he was enjoying every second of it.

Lawrence closed his eyes, so content and dazed by what was happening, that he didn't even notice Adam's grip of his wrists break until he felt his pants beginning to be pulled down. Startled, he moved his head a little in an attempt to catch a glimpse of what his lover was doing, but felt Adam's teeth clench on his neck and his hand around his nipple tighten ever-so-slightly, as if in warning, so he kept still.

Still straddling the helpless man with his legs, Adam continued lowering Lawrence's pants, then moved on to his boxers. He could feel the impact his actions were having on him, and he smirked, enjoying being in such control. Lawrence's face flushed when he felt the younger man's eyes on him, or rather, on his throbbing cock, though it was mostly hidden by his own body.

Tenderly, as though handling something very fragile, Adam slowly moved his hand to the new bare skin, and gripped the other man's rapidly-growing erection, _hard_. Involuntarily, the older man gasped and arched his back, half in shock and half in a blissful, pleasured relief. Adam didn't seem to notice. He was still busily working around Lawrence's chest and neck.

Oh, God... Why was this shocking him so much? He and Adam and done this kind of thing before. Well... They'd touched and kissed, at least. Admittedly, neither of them had ever gone this... _insane_, but still.

It was almost in fear that Lawrence realized that it was that very insanity that turned him on. The glistening, lustful insanity in Adam's eyes was the sexiest thing he'd ever seen, and he hated himself for thinking it, even though it was the truth.

The younger man seemed to change his tactics at that moment. Instead of being rough, almost violent, his touches and kisses now were soft and gentle again. It was his new kind of torture, his way to punish Lawrence for the things he had said. Adam moved his soft lips to the surgeon's throat and sucked for a brief second, leaving a flushed hickie when he pulled away again. His lips, tongue, and free hand were moving constantly, but the one that lay on Lawrence's growing cock remained still.

"Adam..." Lawrence moaned, and his lover seemed to be too busy circling his erected nipples with his warm tongue to notice that he was breaking his "rules." "Please..."

"Shhh," Adam hushed gently. He seemed to be enjoying forcing little moans of pleasure from the older man as much as he enjoyed silencing them with his correcting little nips. "I'm doing this for you, too, you know. You said yourself that you wished you'd left me in that bathroom. And if I really make you hate me so much, you can run off to your wife without me weighing you down."

He looked down at Lawrence and grinned.

"You know I didn't mean it... Jesus, Adam, would you just..."

Lawrence was cut off by a grunt from himself when Adam bent down again, lapping over his nipples like a hungry animal and torturing him with pleasure.

"Remember the rules, Larry," Adam said sadistically, his voice muffled by the other man's skin.

"But you want to rape me," Lawrence argued childishly, trying his best to stay still under the other man.

"I do," Adam said, between kisses that he traced down Lawrence's chest, over his stomach. He then stopped to look at him again and gently stroke the head of his penis, way too gently. "But I also want to get back at you. By playing by my rules. And you want me to rape you fast, don't you?"

"Yes," Lawrence said, because he had to admit it. He wanted to be raped. In fact, every fiber of his body ached and hungered to be raped more than it ever had for anything else in his entire life.

"Exactly," Adam said, kissing the man beneath him, more gently this time, and Lawrence could taste the metallic touch of his own blood. "So I'll be doing this nice and slow."

Lawrence felt his stomach lurch slightly. So, this was Adam's idea of revenge. He was going to make him suffer in his lust and desire for as long as possible, to pay him back for what he'd said. He gritted his teeth, promising himself that he'd be patient. He told himself that he deserved this for the suffering he'd caused his lover. But that didn't make the wait any easier.

Adam was now moving the fingers of his left hand across the head of the other's erection, slowly. Horribly slowly. Lawrence could feel, through the thin shorts the younger man was wearing, that he was beginning to get aroused, as well. He was embracing his companion's body so hard with his knees that Lawrence doubted he would ever let him go.

Lawrence was practically paralyzed with lust now, with Adam still on top of him, his right hand wrapped around his waist and his lips sucking hard against his nipples. The older man became vaguely aware that Adam was no longer wearing his shirt, either. When had that happened?

Talking seemed to have deserted them both now. Adam was occasionally emitting low, muffled moans against the other's chest, but Lawrence was careful not to make too much sound. He wanted to obey Adam's rules, to be good, so maybe he'd forgive him quickly and relieve the agonizing pressure in his cock that was increasing more and more by every slow, teasing stroke.

But, more than anything, Lawrence wanted to feel Adam inside him. He wanted to be penetrated and violated, he wanted to feel Adam's cock crush through him, as sick as that sounded. Adam was speeding up his pace slightly now, his kisses becoming more desperate and lustful. Once or twice he had torn himself away from Lawrence's chest and planted a long, violent kiss on his mouth, which the other had responded to eagerly.

His strokes were also getting faster and more hard, as well. Lawrence could contain himself no longer at this point. He didn't dare move his arms to touch his lover back; he knew that if he broke that "rule," Adam would make him suffer, and dearly. But he moaned, long and hard, and thrust his body slightly against the other man's as much as he could with so much of him restrained.

Seconds after this, Lawrence began to wonder how long Adam could hold out himself. Even he, in his stubborn, gritted anger, seemed to have forgotten most of his own "rules." Even if the older man hadn't felt Adam's growing erection against his own, he would have known that the kid was finding it harder and harder to keep his own desires trapped in a cage.

Lawrence couldn't feel his hips anymore with Adam's weight on top of them. He desperately wanted to touch his lover, to kiss him, to grab the mass of his soft, black hair, but he knew not to. If he moved, he knew that Adam would get even more teasing, that his strokes, that, by God, were almost _painful_ by now, would get even slower.

Then again... Adam almost seemed as horny as he did right now. Apparently he was turned on by pure, lustful madness, too. Lawrence could feel it, by his hands, his lips, and tongue. Adam hadn't ever seemed as hungry for him before as he did now.

Once again, Adam traced his kisses up from his chest to Lawrence's mouth, and this kiss was so rough that his head was banged into the bedpost behind him, but Adam didn't seem to notice, and Lawrence didn't really, either.

His back had arched his body against his lover's, into the feeling of his naked skin against his own, as their tongues roamed each other's mouths and Adam's teeth drew blood from the insides of the older man's lips, and his nails clawed into his shoulders. They were both fighting for control, and Adam won, of course. Lawrence had already turned into wax in his hands long ago.

The photographer left his scars and bite marks on the surgeon's body, securing him, claiming him, tainting him, and Lawrence didn't mind at all. All that mattered was the fact that he still didn't dare to move his hands. Partly because he so badly wanted to please Adam so that the he would finally please _him_, and partly because he was still almost afraid of what the sweet little boy he had thought he'd known so well had turned into.

Adam eventually broke from the kiss, panting, and started to plant kisses down Lawrence's chest again, and the tortured man silently hated him for it. He was so filled with desire by now that every way-too-light kiss that the younger man planted with hot, parted lips was like a stab with a needle. And, of course, the slow, playful hand on his cock wasn't really helping, either.

Lawrence heard a choked moan from the area of his abdomen, and dared a low groan to escape between his lips. Adam's tongue was now playing with the string of hair that started on his stomach, and then followed a pattern down to the part of him that was so desperate for the working man's attention. Adam drew in a shaky breath, and Lawrence could see how he briefly closed his eyes before he straightened up again, leaving him and the man beneath him nose to nose once more.

"Fuck it," he murmured roughly, and it was with relief that Lawrence saw surrender shining in his eyes.

For a few seconds, the two stared at one another, both breathing hard and fast. Then, forcefully, Adam relaxed his legs' grip around the other's waist and pushed him over onto his stomach. Then, settling himself on top of his lover, Adam began rapidly removing his own pants, using only one hand, as his other was still fondling Lawrence's now hardened-beyond-recognition member.

After what seemed like torturing decades, Adam, too, was completely naked. He wrapped his legs around the older man's body again, as though hoping to immobilize him, although at this point Lawrence wouldn't have moved away for anything. He knew what was about to happen would hurt him. A _lot_.

He and Adam had made love before, but it had been slow and easy, and loving. But at the moment, Adam half-hated him, and he was going to make him suffer for what he'd put him through. But in a way, the pain was what Lawrence was longing for. He felt disgusted at himself for feeling so turned on by rape, since that was pretty much what it was; Adam would have violated him, whether he'd wanted him to or not. That was the very definition of "rape."

But, at the same time, he just didn't care. He wanted Adam to be rough with him, and he wanted to be dominated. The freelance photographer had never been one for romantic and delicate situations. Those other times when he and Lawrence had made love, he had been uncertain and gentle. He had never wanted to _hurt_ his lover. But now... Oh, how he wanted to hurt him. He wanted to make him suffer. And he was going to.

Swiftly, without any pause, without any warning, Adam thrust into Lawrence, hard. He pushed his erection as far as it would go into the older man's backside, held for a moment, then pulled out again, just as fast and forcefully as he'd entered.

Lawrence gave an agonized cry and halfheartedly tried to push Adam off, but the young man gathered both his lover's wrists in his right hand, pinning them behind his back and holding him fast. With his other hand, he continued to stroke the other's penis, as if to reassure its owner.

Lawrence gave a half-sob and then lay still, surrendering. Part of him had enjoyed the sensation of Adam pushing inside him so forcefully. It had almost seemed like the other man had been attempting to insert some of his own anger and betrayal into him.

"It'll be over soon, Lawrence," Adam breathed quietly into the older man's neck. His voice sounded strangely husky, not like him at all. But Lawrence felt reassured by the words. He knew, deep down, that this was essential to Adam, and to their relationship. Besides, he was half-enjoying it himself, despite how much it hurt. Even so, he couldn't help giving a low whimper at the words, either.

Gently, Adam kissed Lawrence's neck. A short, soft kiss, meant to comfort. Then, positioning himself slightly, ruthlessly jammed his erection into Lawrence's opening again.

Lawrence whimpered and felt his restrained hands involuntarily clench into fists. God, it hurt. God, he never wanted it to end. Because at the same time when it hurt, he'd never felt so good in his life.

"Adam..." He grunted as he felt another angry thrust from behind him. "Jesus..."

"I still need you to shut up," Adam hissed, and the violated man felt teeth bury themselves into his shoulder.

Lawrence cried out in pain. And that was the last sound he made during the rest of the act. He gritted his teeth, sometimes he drew in a sharp breath that was followed by either nails or teeth boring into his skin. He was drinking in Adam's moans, and even though the younger man did nothing at all to make what he was doing into a good experience for him, Lawrence had to bite his lips to keep from screaming as he finally reached his oh-so-waned orgasm, and that was long before Adam bit down a grunt behind him, slid out of his lover and sat down on the floor, empty, too.

Lawrence turned around and pulled himself into a sitting position, leaning heavily against the wall. For the first time since he had gotten to the apartment, he got a chance to really look at Adam, to really see the pain, the suffering his words had caused him. Adam was panting, his dark hair damp with sweat, and he looked pleased with himself. But the hurt was still there. Lawrence almost got teary from the sight.

_How can you love someone more than you love yourself, and still hurt them this badly?_

Adam looked at him. He grinned slightly, and Lawrence almost saw the old Adam return to him. The sarcastic, sweet little Adam. Almost.

"You did that very well, Lawrence," he said approvingly.

He really sounded like he meant it. There was a bitter undertone, but still.

Lawrence nodded.

"It wasn't the last time, though, was it?" he asked.

Adam shuffled towards him and sat down next to him, leaning against the wall also, and gave his lover a toxic glance.

"If I had said something like that to you, would you have forgiven me already?"

**Hehe… Damn right that wasn't the last time! Anyway, now that I've finally given you a fic where Adam gets to be dominant, it's only fair if you give me a few reviews… Right?**


	3. Chapter 3

**As I said, I updated both this fic and my other one in the same day to make up for my slacking. So if you like it, REVIEW! Or favor. I'm flattered either way, because it means people like my work. :) So, without further ado, enjoy this chapter! I really enjoyed writing this one, believe me.**

**3. No More Excuses**

Lawrence gave a low groan of contentment and moved his right arm over slightly in an attempt to embrace the man lying next to him. The surgeon was still only half-asleep, and when his hand hit nothing but the bare sheets next to him, at first he felt around them, absentmindedly, figuring that he'd find his lover there eventually.

However, after about a minute of this, Lawrence had still failed to locate the photographer. His eyes snapped open and he sat up, abruptly, looking around the room in panic. Where the hell had Adam gone?!

A few seconds later, the older man caught the sound of running water, coming from a door just to the side of the bed. Lawrence felt momentarily relieved when he heard it, but almost immediately after he was worried again. The bathroom was where Adam kept all of his medication. _Strong_ medication. Things that could not have been obtained without the older man's own degree. If too much of that stuff had been taken...

Terrified, Lawrence jumped to his feet and ran over to the door, pulling it roughly open without bothering to knock.

The first thing Lawrence noticed once he'd stepped into the -- rather cramped -- bathroom was the noise. Not just the sound of the running water which, he now saw, was coming from the half-bath, half-shower in the far corner, but also a low, despairing sobbing of some sort, coming from the same place. He could also make out a crouched, shadowy figure from behind the shower curtain.

Even though Lawrence was not happy to find that his lover was in so much pain, he was at least reassured that the young man hadn't killed himself. Not yet, anyway. Gingerly, Lawrence made his way over to the bath. Adam must have heard him open the bathroom door, but his figure did not stir. Not even as the older man gently pulled aside the curtain, and slid in beside the sobbing man, pulling the curtain back in place once he'd done so, so that it looked like the two of them were inside a wet, metal tent.

Adam's face was hidden in his hands, so Lawrence could not judge any of his condition by his expression, but the by way the photographer's shoulders were shaking, by the way he frequently gasped for air, and by the constant trembling of his body, Lawrence knew that he was in a great deal of pain.

He knew what his lover was crying about, and the thought killed him. Swiftly, ignoring the fact that they were both still completely naked, and putting aside the younger man's behavior from the night before, Lawrence pulled the sobbing man into a tight embrace.

Adam did not pull away; on the contrary, the moment Lawrence's arms were around him, he seemed to calm down somewhat. His sobs quieted slightly and his tremblings became a little less violent.

Lawrence felt Adam lean against him, felt one of his arms -- his left one, the one that did not have the permanent scar of a bullet on it -- lifting up slightly to half-embrace the other man. Lawrence suppressed a moan of pleasure with difficulty, feeling the warmth of the younger man, in addition to the warmth of the still-running water, against his skin.

His words had really hurt Adam, he knew that. He'd known it the moment he'd said them. He'd known it even more the day after, when his sweet, innocent lover had, for a brief time, become a lustful beast. But now, crouching in the bath, his arms around the sobbing, shivering wreck of man, Lawrence knew that what he'd said had done much more than simply hurt the young man; it had _destroyed_ him.

Gritting his teeth, Lawrence gripped the younger man even more tightly, feeling tears coming into his own eyes, running down his face and mingling with the hot water. He took a deep, shuddering breath, and murmured, a sentence he knew he'd have to repeat many times in the course of this relationship:

"Adam... I'm so sorry..."

Instantly, as it seemed to Lawrence, Adam, who had just moments ago been a fragile, broken man, suddenly snapped. He pulled himself roughly from the older man's grip, snarling slightly, and, before his victim had time to realize what was going on, slammed him into one of the walls that the bath was connected to, _hard_.

Lawrence was far too shocked to cry out, and by the time he came to his senses, the younger man had already pushed him onto his back and positioned himself on top of him, just as he had the previous night. It would have been completely silent, if not for the still-running sound of the water hitting both the bottom of the bath -- Adam had not bothered to use a plughole -- and the two men lying inside it.

The older man looked fearfully back up at the smirking photographer, not daring to move or even speak without his permission. Adam once again had his lover completely pinned, his legs straddling his waist and his hands on his chest, holding him down with little effort.

"Same rules as yesterday, Lawrence," Adam said. His voice was cold and his eyes, though still filled with anguished tears, were blank. "You don't move, speak, or do _anything_ without my permission. Is that understood?"

Clenching his teeth hard to stop himself from moaning from the contact, or whimpering in fear at Adam's second transformation, Lawrence gave a low murmur, hoping that it sounded like some kind of sound of compliance. It must have, because he saw the younger man's mouth curl into a satisfied smile of triumph as he slowly began moving his fingers along his prisoner's nipples.

Adam's fingertips rubbed Lawrence, and for a second the pinned man forgot all about the "rules" again and arched his back as much as he could with Adam straddling his waist, and moaned, long and hard, from the very core of the dark red, insane lust that vibrated in the bottom of his stomach. The younger man furrowed his brows in disapproval, bent down, and bit into Lawrence's neck, harder than last night, in the exact same place that his flushed bite marks already were. And even that was arousing.

"Remember the rules, Larry," he murmured, as Lawrence cried out from the stinging pain. "This isn't the first time. I told you that already."

Lawrence nodded sharply and realized that today's wait would be a lot harder. Adam's grudge seemed to have grown over the night, as had his love for teasing. The more he got to see Lawrence bite his lip to keep from screaming, the more he got to see him writhe underneath him in the pain of his desire, the more pleased he got.

It was the same as last night. Adam's eyes were black and glistening with sadistic lust, his hands were roaming Lawrence's body, lingering, caressing, torturing, as the older man did his best to keep quiet and not move, and he was disgusted with himself because of the mind-numbing arousal that rose in him when Adam bent down again, not biting him this time, but whispering in his ear, gently, as though his words were sweet little nothings, the words Lawrence had been waiting for: "I want to rape you."

After that, Adam tilted his head, his breath hot and ragged against Lawrence's face, and when he straightened up, the water that had collected in his hair dripped into his lover's eyes. And then he kissed him, almost gently, and Lawrence could almost taste the Adam he used to know on the new Adam's tongue, the Adam he had actually made love with, and not the Adam who did _this_.

But in the meantime, he knew that he'd have to work to get that Adam back to him. He had wounded the old Adam, and now this one had taken his place.

"Adam..." Lawrence grunted as the younger man traced kisses down his chin, his neck, and his chest, down towards his almost painful erection.

"You know what I want to hear," Adam mumbled, before straightening up to look his prey in the eyes. "You know me well enough for that, don't you?"

Lawrence nodded and swallowed hard, preparing for the pain he knew would come.

"Adam..." he repeated, closing his eyes. "Please..."

He would do anything. He couldn't take this any longer. His crotch would explode if he wasn't relieved, and only Adam could do that by now. And the sight of him, still on top of him and practically breaking his ribs, didn't help much. The photographer grinned insanely and slowly removed his hands from Lawrence's chest.

""Please,"" he repeated, almost in disgust. "You really are a pussy, Lawrence."

Lawrence shook his head gruffly.

"I am whatever the fuck you want me to be. Just..."

He was cut off by a sharp gasp from himself as Adam buried his nails in his waist, drawing blood that mixed with the hot water and then ran down the drain.

"Shut. The fuck. Up," Adam hissed in a terrible voice.

Lawrence couldn't respond. The sight of Adam's face petrified him. His teeth were gritted and he saw something that almost looked like murder in his eyes.

"I'm going to make you suffer, Lawrence," Adam muttered, that crazy grin returning to his face as he spoke.

He lifted himself from the older man and rolled him over to his stomach before he got on top of him again. Lawrence didn't manage to brace himself before he felt Adam's erection being jammed into him, harder and rougher than last night, a million times more painful, and he cried out in a mixture of shock and agonizing pleasure.

Lawrence saw, or rather, felt, since from his current position he couldn't see his lover's face at all, the pleasure Adam got when he heard him cry out. The hot water was still coming down on top of them both at full blast, and, to Lawrence's disgust, his own penis was as erected as ever.

Adam lingered inside the older man for a few moments, just as he had the previous night, then pulled himself roughly out again. Lawrence only just managed to brace himself as Adam entered again, harder and more forcefully this time. It was the worst pain in the history of the world, but, God... God, was it turning him on. His increasingly-hardening cock was becoming agonizing, too, and, desperately, Lawrence tried to stealthily move one of his hands down to relieve himself. Adam's eyes were sharp, though, and he caught the surgeon's hand well-before it reached its mark, while still fucking his lover senseless.

Grinning, Adam pinned Lawrence's hands behind his back in a confident, one-handed grip, then slowly, agonizingly slowly, began to move his other hand down the suffering man's body. Shoving his erection hard into Lawrence's opening and keeping it there this time, Adam purposely left his hand lingering, just centimeters away from the other man's penis.

Lawrence heard a low, tortured moan, and realized shortly after that it had been him. Adam was now so far inside him, he felt like his insides were being torn apart. His tormenter was still thrusting, but he wasn't pulling himself out of his victim anymore; he was simply contenting himself with fucking the other man's insides. And _God_, it felt so amazing...

The freelance photographer moved his index finger, slowly, teasingly, against Lawrence's massive erection, managing to draw out another agonized moan from the man below him. Moving his head down again so that his mouth was against the surgeon's neck, Adam murmured, in a voice that made Lawrence's blood run cold:

"Beg for it, Larry. I want you to crawl to me like the fucking pussy that you are."

He said it with that voice. The softly-growling, dangerously threatening voice that promised Lawrence everything, everything he ever wanted, as long as he did as he was told.

The voice that made Lawrence panic, while at the same time it made his already crossing-the-laws-of-physics erection grow even more.

He was insane. Any rational person would throw Adam away, try to forget everything he ever knew about him, and turn him in for rape, but Lawrence couldn't. Or, he would probably be _able_ to, but he didn't want to. Adam's cock seemed to be tearing him apart now, and it felt like his shoulders would slip out of their sockets by how his arms were locked to his back, but he loved it.

He loved the pain, he loved the tears, he loved Adam's teasing hand on his throbbing cock.

"Are you playing "The Godfather," Adam?" he mumbled sarcastically, but a second later felt his lover's teeth bury themselves in the back of his neck as though he were the helpless, pale little girl in "Dracula." And Adam was the inhumanly strong, death-threatening vampire. Lawrence realized that this wasn't the time to be sarcastic.

_You will never be able to make jokes with him again,_ the voice in his head said. _He's lost his entire sense of humor, he's lost the little self-confidence he had. And whose fault is that?_

"I told you I would make you suffer," Adam hissed as he ran his tongue over the lone drops of blood that had escaped from the wound under his teeth. "I can make you suffer. This isn't even the worst thing I can do to you. And you know that."

And as if to reassure his own words, he gave the older man another slow stroke, and Lawrence bit his lip to keep from moaning. What he said was true. Adam was completely out of his mind, a totally different person. Lawrence knew what he would do. And Adam did, too.

"Adam..." he mumbled, feeling the kid's hot breath on his neck. "Please... Please, just..."

That was all that he needed. With one last grunt, Adam roughly pulled out of him again, and did not enter again, even though his own penis still bulged in unfinished satisfaction. He spun his lover roughly around so that he was facing him, grabbed him by the shoulders, and pushed him down onto his back again, positioning himself securely on top of the older man.

Lawrence heard an aggressive growl before Adam captured his lips in a kiss, a violent kiss with teeth and tongue, and the surgeon made a feeble attempt to get some control before he felt Adam's nails scraping into his shoulders, and he gave up. There was no point, no point at all.

Slumping against the bath in silent surrender, Lawrence completely gave in to the insane man on top of him. Adam was now holding him in a one-armed half-embrace, half-body-lock, and though his arms were at least free now, Lawrence didn't dare attempt to move them. His other hand, he was still running slowly, horribly slowly, down his shivering victim's erection.

Adam's kisses were now becoming more and more violent, to the point in which Lawrence could taste blood in his mouth from his lover's roughness. The freelance photographer's breathing was coming in hard, ragged gasps, and muffled moans escaped his lips as he mercilessly continued violating the man who had hurt him.

Lawrence was now so aroused that the hot, flowing water from above might just as well have been cold, and he still would have felt hot all over. It was taking every bit of self-constraint he had in his body to stop himself from attempting to move his hands down in a second effort to reduce his massive erection.

Adam took his time, occasionally running the fingers of his free hand -- the one that was not heartlessly torturing the other man's suffering cock -- along the surgeon's waist. Once or twice, the younger man also stopped his ravishing kisses and torments of the inside of Lawrence's mouth and gave him a semi-aggressive nip or suck on the shoulder or neck. And, very occasionally, Adam ran one finger along the older man's erection, doing nothing more than increasing it.

Lawrence had no idea how long this went on. His mind was almost completely blank with the insane lust inside of him that was increasing tenfold with every passing moment. But, eventually, he realized that Adam's slow, torturing strokes against his throbbing penis were gradually becoming more frequent and extended. Half of the blood in Lawrence's mouth was from his own teeth, desperately biting into his bottom lip to keep himself from crying out, but he was still managing to return the other man's violent kisses.

True to Adam's "rules" the previous night, the younger man had no restrictions on what _he_ was allowed to do. His moans were becoming more and more fervent with every stroke he made, which was not helping Lawrence at all, since the sound of Adam's voice only turned him on even more.

Eventually, Adam's strokes were coming so fast and hard, and his kisses were so passionate and lustful, that Lawrence could no longer contain himself. He was close to climaxing, he knew it. _Very_ close. Would it be the next stroke that brought it out, or the one after that? Lawrence was far too aroused to keep count, but the next thing he knew, he had arched his back and, with a long and blissful moan, muffled by his lover's own mouth, released hopelessly into Adam's hand, probably enough to fill an entire bottle.

**God, I'm having fun with this. Adam never got to be dominant before, or if he did, it was very rare! So now he's getting his dominant revenge, and Lawrence is all submissive and scared! That's just adorable! XD**


	4. Chapter 4

**Hehe… Damn, this chapter will be fun… I'm actually trying something completely new here, that I've never written about before, so for the first time in a long time, I'm actually nervous about what y'all are going to think… Ah, who am I kidding. It's smut, you'll love it! XD **

**4. Proof Lies In Actions**

Lawrence exhaled one last time, slowly and shakily, and Adam gave a half-smile at the effect he had on him.

"I knew you were a pussy," he mumbled, grazing his thumb over his lover's lips.

Lawrence nodded sharply. He couldn't say no to him anymore. Adam slid off his hips and sat down next to him in the bathtub.

"Turn the damn water off," he said. beckoning to the faucet above their heads. "No one's getting any cleaner. It's just annoying as hell."

Lawrence reached up an arm and turned off the water tap. He felt as if someone had grabbed his brain and squeezed it. God. He'd never had an orgasm like that before. Allison had sure as hell never given him one.

He looked at Adam next to him. His eyes were still black, his jaw still clenched, and he was scraping his nail against some invisible dirt in the bathtub. On some level, he knew it was the younger man that made him this way. He'd never been more turned on in his life, and it was simply because of the fact that the Adam had been on top of him. Adam, who had his alarming sparkle of anger mixed with the lust in his eyes. No one else could ever make him this... _insane_.

Adam had shown him a world he'd lost faith in, and he didn't even know if he'd be around for that much longer.

"Are you going to let me apologize now?" he asked, pulling his knees up in front of him.

"Nope," came Adam's clipped answer without looking at him. "You don't mean it, anyway."

Lawrence felt his heart crumble at these words. Of course Adam didn't think he meant it. Honestly, who would ever believe that?

"Adam..." he said desperately, feeling tears forming in his eyes. "I've never meant anything more in my life."

"Shut up," the other man bit back, running a hand clumsily through his wet hair.

"No," Lawrence said firmly. "I won't shut up. I didn't mean any of the things I said to you, except for that. I meant the apology. I would never give you up for Allison."

Adam didn't answer. But Lawrence thought that the fact that he didn't punch him in the jaw either, as progress. He wouldn't let Adam go. He'd tie him up somewhere if he had to. He'd never let him go, because he couldn't live without him.

Adam was looking away now, and Lawrence could tell that he was struggling to hold back tears. It wrenched the older man's heart to see his sweet little Adam in so much pain. The freelance photographer had begun shuddering somewhat, and for a horrible moment Lawrence thought it was because he was crying again, but as he moved forward slightly in an attempt to comfort him, Lawrence, his cheeks flushing, noticed the younger man's obvious arousal, which he was trying without success to hide.

Adam had brought himself up to near-release by the way he'd fucked Lawrence, but he'd been concentrating so hard on making the older man suffer, that he'd failed to ease his own temptations. Lawrence moved forward slightly, and Adam instinctively stiffened, his face hardening.

"Don't..." he began in a warning tone. Lawrence ignored this and pulled himself forward a few more inches, staring hard at the back of Adam's neck. "Lawrence--"

"Adam, please..." Lawrence whispered, feeling the hot tears begin to run down his face as he spoke. "Please, let me do this for you. I really am sorry--"

Adam spun around abruptly, causing Lawrence to gasp in surprise and fear. But the younger man's eyes were not the black and lifeless ones anymore; they were his old, vulnerable-looking, hurt ones.

"Lawrence, do you really think I'm going to forgive you for what you said with just one bl--"

"No!" Lawrence cut across him desperately. He swallowed, feeling every last bit of Adam's pain and betrayal as though it were his own. "Adam..." he murmured, in a more gentle and controlled tone, "I'm not trying to make a bargaining price for your forgiveness, I just..."

He stopped and wiped a couple of stray tears from his face. Adam really did look beautiful, his hair and body soaked with water and his build just as impressive as it always had been. Had he not just been, literally, fucked dry just a few minutes ago, Lawrence probably would have found it impossible to resist him. But, as it was, all he wanted to do now was make _Adam_ happy; he wanted to make his lover feel safe and wanted, and to know how sorry he was.

"You just, _what_?" Adam persisted. His voice was still harsh, but Lawrence could tell that the younger man's arousal and need for release was beginning to get the better of him. He was still shuddering uncontrollably, and his erection, though the surgeon was careful not to look directly at it for fear of being thought a pervert, seemed to be pulsing with anticipation.

Lawrence sighed, moving closer to his companion and resting his arm on his right shoulder -- the one that was not scarred by the bullet of the gun Lawrence had once used to shoot him. Adam did not pull away, but his body seemed to ripple from the contact. Clearly, he was suffering just as much in his desire and lust as Lawrence had been a moment ago. Leaning forward so that his mouth was directly to the trembling man's ear, the surgeon said:

"I just want to do something for you, Adam. You deserve it. Please."

The younger man made no reply, though he'd obviously heard. He was trembling even more now, and Lawrence knew that his senses were fast-leaving him. Finally, his teeth clenched and his eyes squeezed shut to stop himself from moaning, Adam gave a slight nod and made raspy sound from the back of his throat that could have been an "okay," which Lawrence took as a good sign.

"Okay," the older man said gently, feeling his own voice go husky from the thought of what he was about to do. "Lie down on your back."

Adam gave him an annoyed look.

"I'm sorry," Lawrence said quickly with a small smile. "The rules. I forgot."

"Idiot," Adam muttered, looking away again, and even though it was an insult, it almost sounded loving, like those times when they had been sitting on Adam's couch and Lawrence had said that Johnny Depp was hotter than Brad Pitt, and Adam had said that he was an idiot and smacked him in the back of the head, and then they had started wrestling.

They would pause for a moment, connect their eyes for a brief second, and then Lawrence's hands would be on Adam's face and he would be kissing him with just as much power as he'd been using when they had wrestled a few seconds earlier, shoving his tongue deep into his mouth, and Adam would violently put his hands inside of his shirt...

Lawrence gently raked a hand through Adam's hair, as though he were afraid that he would disappear. Those moments seemed to be so horribly far away now.

"Would you please lie on your back, Adam?" he corrected himself. If he'd said that a minute earlier, Adam would've tortured him with his own desire for showing such defiance. But now, he seemed too anxious himself to think of the fact that Lawrence had broken his rules, so he lay down on his back without argument.

Lawrence gulped as he saw Adam stretched out in front of him. Okay, he would be honest with himself; he'd never done anything remotely like this before. He was used to having... sex. Just that. He had been having sex with Allison because they had wanted a baby, and that was still the kind of sex that teenagers read about in their biology books. The basics of sex. And now, he would...

...He would do it. Period.

Lawrence spread Adam's legs as much a he could in the cramped tub. Then, as if to warm up, he pulled himself up to Adam's lips and gave him the first gentle kiss they had shared for what seemed like an eternity. Then he slid down over Adam's stomach until he was face to face with his still-growing erection. He gulped once again, silently preparing himself, before he hesitatingly stuck his tongue out and drew it over Adam's shaft.

Adam inhaled sharply, but his pride obviously didn't allow him to show too much emotion. Still encouraged by this, Lawrence traced small, light kisses all over Adam's cock, all the way up to the head, and he felt his lover tense beneath him.

Lawrence almost got annoyed by Adam's lack of sounds, especially since he'd moaned like hell when Adam had done this to him.

Yes. Adam had done it. It was before, in a different life, when their love hadn't been this despairing, this infected by old fights and old pain, but Lawrence still remembered how it had felt. And he wanted to make Adam feel the same way. He owed him that much.

Convinced by this thought, he finally opened his mouth and took as much of Adam's penis in it as would fit.

It wasn't like he thought it would be. It was a strange kind of erotica, but anything would be worth it to make Adam feel better. And he did, he knew that. Adam grunted softly above him, still not willing to expose his feelings.

A quick, sadistic thought ran rapidly through Lawrence's mind -- _I know how I can make you sound, Adam. Now, show me some of that_ -- and he drew his tongue over the photographer's erection, wrapped it around him and sucked lightly, and he almost grinned as he felt Adam throw pride to the wind and moan, long and hard, while arching his back.

A tiny bit of cum leaked into Lawrence's mouth. In the position he was in, he could neither swallow it nor spit it out, so he just let it dissolve slowly to the best of his ability. It tasted somewhat bitter, but it also had a pleasant kind of salty-taste to it that appealed to the older man. Adam's breathing was now extremely ragged and fast, and Lawrence could feel the length of the other man shuddering and throbbing in his mouth.

Gently, Lawrence pressed his teeth against the middle of Adam's penis. It was an extremely mild little nip that, if done on any other part of skin, would barely have been felt at all. But the sensitiveness of the younger man's most responsive body-part made a huge impact. Adam grunted, and once again arched his back, treating Lawrence to a second helping of his arousal.

It amazed the surgeon just how quickly Adam's responses were growing. Hell, they were growing faster than his had been, and he had been practically dying in his desire for release. As he continued sucking, and very occasionally, nipping, Lawrence saw, through the corner of his eye, Adam's pale, sweating face, and his hands gripping the edges of the bathtub so hard that his knuckles were showing white through his skin.

This encouraged him, and he began to suck harder and more eagerly. Adam's breathing grew faster and more desperate, and his already-massively-erected cock grew even bigger in the other man's mouth.

Lawrence could feel himself beginning to get somewhat excited, too, although he was still incapable of feeling too intimate in his worn-out state. Adam, on his part, was trembling uncontrollably now, and tiny, hoarse moans were escaping from his lips more and more often, though none so loud and pleasured as the one he'd uttered before.

Lawrence could feel pressure beginning to build up in the younger man's penis, and knew that his lover was on the verge of releasing. He gave one last lick on the base of the head, then pulled out. Just in time. Only seconds after he'd freed him, Adam had moaned, long and hard, and come hopelessly into the bathtub, and a little on Lawrence.

Both men lay still for a few moments, both breathing heavily. Lawrence slowly crawled up so that he was lying beside his lover and put one arm around him, resting his head on his bare chest as he did so. The tub was really too small to hold them both, so Lawrence was forced to lie somewhat over the younger man, but neither cared. Both were far too high and drained to pay much attention to their surroundings.

**AW! Look at Lawrence trying to bargain for forgiveness… Anyway, as you might've suspected, there's more smut coming up. And it'd be just swell if you reviewed, so things will be speeded up! We wouldn't want Adam and Lawrence waiting, would we? **


	5. Chapter 5

**Why, hello there! I hope you've been craving desperately for more smut, even though the past few chapters have been basically nothing but that. Because this chapter has it! Well, the beginning of it, but painful cliffhangers is what makes the world go 'round. ;)**

**5: Aftermath**

Lawrence looked down at Adam, and once again, despite all the times he'd tried to apologize, despite all the times Adam had gotten what seemed like a fair revenge, a wave of guilt washed over him, and all those old thoughts rushed back to him.

_I'm all he's got. I'm the only one. I'm everything to him. I have others. I'm forgetting what it's like to only have one person to rely on..._

_Otherwise I'd never say such a thing. If I knew how it felt, I'd never say that._

"Adam..." Lawrence mumbled, stroking a wet lock of hair from his lover's forehead. "Jesus... I really hurt you, didn't I?"

Adam opened his eyes sharply, that black, piercing anger appearing in his gaze once more.

"You don't mean that much to me, Lawrence," he hissed, but he seemed too worn out now to get his passive-aggressive revenge.

Lawrence didn't bother to say that he was lying. He knew it would cause serious damage to his pride, and he wouldn't do that to him. Not again.

"No... Okay. But... Okay, in that case, I don't know why you're so pissed off at me. Can't you just tell me?"

Adam shook his head gruffly.

He knew that Lawrence knew what he'd done. He knew that Lawrence knew that what he'd said had made Adam consider suicide for a while. But he wouldn't admit it, not a chance.

"Why are you here, Lawrence?" he suddenly asked, his voice hollow. Lawrence glanced over at him.

"What do you mean?"

"What do you think I mean? Why are you here? You have... You have your wife and kid. Aren't you worried about them?"

"They're not depressed. And I haven't given them six prescriptions of painkillers, so no. I was more worried about you... I... I thought that what I'd said..." He swallowed the final words. Didn't want to say them. He'd thought them more than enough times, had imagined Adam's pale face, imagined how he lay on the bathroom floor, lifeless, still...

Adam was beneath Lawrence, warm and safe and alive, but it didn't matter. That image in his head gave Lawrence a minor panic.

Adam sighed theatrically and rolled his eyes.

"You want to be delusional, fine. We can pretend that this is your life, that you love me, and that you don't have a family."

Lawrence looked down on him, and damn, the tears started to come back, because every single one of Adam's words was a tiny needle that pierced his heart.

"We can pretend that you're not married, and that nothing in your life is more important than this." Adam sighed. "Than me."

Somehow, he managed to heave himself to standing position, and Lawrence realized that the bathtub got so awfully cold when the kid wasn't next to him.

"But it ends. Sooner or later," Adam said firmly, and no matter how badly he wanted to hide it -- all of his pain, his broken heart -- it all shone through the words. "And what do you suppose we ought to do then?"

Lawrence didn't know what to do. He didn't know how to defend himself, because everything he said was true. He just didn't understand why they had to be delusional, why they couldn't just be together, why Adam couldn't listen to him... He could only repeat his question, and hope that the answer he got would help him understand how to make everything better.

"I really hurt you, didn't I?" he asked helplessly.

Adam's evil look returned, and he said his answer again in that dull voice.

"You don't mean that much to me, Lawrence."

Lawrence nodded.

"Then how much do I mean to you?"

Adam stiffened, his black eyes widened and got colored again at the sudden confrontation, and for a brief second he turned into Adam again -- weak, vulnerable, sobbing Adam. Adam that was in desperate need of comfort and closure, Adam that had been chained to a pipe and who had screamed at Lawrence not to leave him...

Lawrence just got a glimpse of this Adam. Then he turned around and walked out of the bathroom, quickly, but not quickly enough for Lawrence not to see how he put a hand over his mouth to suppress a sob.

He knew Adam didn't want him to see him cry.

Lawrence sighed heavily as he set the phone down onto the receiver. Allison's reaction when he'd told her that he would be staying with a friend for a few days had not been favorable. She'd burst out with all kinds of nonsense about Diana and her needing him there, of the surgeon not being a good father or husband. Basically, she'd said what she'd always said when she didn't get her own way.

Lawrence wasn't surprised when he turned around, away from the phone, to see Adam standing there, his arms folded and his expression stony. Even though he'd expected it, it was still somewhat depressing to see his sweet little lover still looking so angry and hurt, but at least not looking lustful and insane like he had earlier.

"You're staying, then?" Adam asked gruffly, his voice feigning indifference. Lawrence nodded, his eyes on the floor.

"Yeah, for a few days. I need to think about what I'm going to do."

"I told you what you need to do," Adam replied coldly, leaning against the living room's doorframe and regarding the older man with annoyance. "And you bit my fucking head off. Remember?"

Lawrence sighed again and turned away, putting a hand over his face and breathing heavily. He felt tired. He wasn't angry at Adam. Hell, he was too tired even to be angry at himself anymore. The two little "sessions" he'd had with the kid had really worn him out, as had all the worrying that had come about after that.

He heard Adam's soft footsteps behind him and a moment later, felt his warm, enticing hands wrap themselves around his neck. He couldn't help feeling a little afraid.

"I feel like sex, Larry," the freelance photographer almost purred into his lover's ear. He ran his fingers slowly along the back of Lawrence's neck, forcing a low and timid moan of pleasure from the recipient.

Adam turned the older man around roughly so that they were face to face, and Lawrence saw with relief that the young man's eyes were not black with lust or anger, but simply shiny with anticipation and displeasure.

"D-Do you?" Lawrence asked weakly, his throat dry as his companion's hands began to move slowly down his neck and grab at his chest.

"Yeah, I do," Adam said softly, moving forward slightly so that his mouth was directly against Lawrence's.

The surgeon grunted in contentment as he took in the younger man's familiar scent of tobacco and beer. Adam smirked and ran his hands further down his lover's body, lingering teasingly above his nipples.

"And I don't think you'd really want to refuse anything I say right now, would you, Larry?"

Lawrence bit into his lip furiously as the freelance photographer's fingers brushed against his right nipple, but he still couldn't suppress the moan that escaped his lips. Adam seemed to take this as some kind of reply, however, because the next thing Lawrence knew, the younger man had pushed him roughly onto the carpet, landing hard on top of him, and filled his lips with his, slipping his hands eagerly under the surgeon's shirt and running them rapidly up and down his shivering body.

The other times had been great. They'd been insane, they'd been frightening, and Lawrence had seen Adam's black, hateful eyes glisten in his mind, but it had been great.  

But this time was so different, Lawrence had almost forgotten that this counted as sex, too.

Lawrence could move his hands. And he gratefully used that by moving them over Adam's body, remove that annoy shirt that hung flimsily around it, displaying his pale upper body. The younger man straightened up, and once again sat across Lawrence's hips, and once again was in control.  

He just didn't look like he'd take as much advantage of it as before.  

"Easy, Lawrence," he murmured, then slowed down the speed of his slender fingertips that wandered around inside of his lover's shirt.  

"Adam..." Lawrence mumbled, sitting up so that he was once again face to face with him. And he needed that -- by _God,_ he needed that. He needed Adam's lips just as badly as the other times. "You... You can't do this to me again..."  

Adam grinned weakly and cupped Lawrence's chin, pulled his lips into a soft, gentle kiss that he didn't seem to intend to deepen, and the surgeon didn't have the guts to try to push things further himself. Still.  

"Lawrence," Adam said when he pulled back again. "You stupid little boy."  

Then he pressed his lips to his again, just as light and brief, and kept talking between kisses that increased Lawrence's desire, way too slowly, way too surely.  

"There's nothing I wouldn't do to you," Adam continued through the kisses. "You know that, too, don't you?"  

Lawrence hungrily pressed his face against Adam's while he, in a vain hope that Adam wouldn't notice, unfastened the buttons in his own shirt.  

"Yes, I do," Lawrence mumbled, slowly starting to pull his shirt off, half-expecting that Adam would stop him. "But... Do you _want_ to do that to me again?"  

Adam smirked into the kiss and finally separated Lawrence's lips with his tongue, and Lawrence was about to moan, but Adam pulled away too quickly for that.  

"Before, you wondered what you'd do," Adam muttered, drawing his finger over Lawrence's lips with a slight frown. "I don't feel like raping you right now. It's getting old."  

He lowered his mouth to Lawrence's neck, and Lawrence thought he'd bite him in that way that made a pain pricking in the place were teeth were buried, and heavy, burning waves rocking through the rest of his body.  

But Adam just kissed him, a little more roughly now, sure, but still only kissed him.  

"But please don't think I _can't_ rape you," Adam went on, and his voice was getting hoarse with lust. "You're still fucking hot, Lawrence. So I'll tell you what you're going to do."  

Lawrence inhaled. He dared to let his hands wander over the other man's torso, and Adam didn't seem to mind. But when he heard this, and when Adam leaned forward and whispered in his ear, he couldn't hold back a cold, stabbing feeling of dread in his stomach.  

"You're going to take of all of your clothes," Adam said calmly. "And then you'll do the same to me. And then you'll lie face down on this floor. And you'll let me fuck you."

**Aw, isn't Adam a doll when he's an insane rapist… I wish he could've been like that in the movie! XD Either way, it would be real nice if you reviewed!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Hi everybody! You might've figured out my usual pattern of leaving every chapter right before the good stuff starts, and… Yeah, seems like the last chapter followed that pattern pretty nicely. Well, that's why I wrote this chapter! Because where there's a cliffhanger, there must be sex. **

**6: Instead of Forgiveness**

Lawrence clenched his teeth hard in a desperate attempt to muffle the whimper of fear that escaped his lips. But even with the fear, he felt arousal, too. Oh, _God_, did he feel it. It was lying in his stomach, crawling up into his chest and making his heart beat like crazy against his fingers, still fumbling to undo the buttons on his shirt, and it was sinking down into his lower regions, making his penis hard.

"And you like it when I'm like this, don't you?" Adam moaned harshly into Lawrence's neck, still running his hands furiously along the older man's chest. "It turns you on, doesn't it?"

Lawrence felt himself shiver at these words. He let his hands drop weakly from his now-unbuttoned shirt, too weak with fear and lust to hold them up anymore. He felt the skin around his neck crease slightly as Adam's mouth, which was still pressed to it, curved into a smirk of triumph.

The younger man ripped his mouth from the other man's neck, pulled him roughly around, so that he was lying on his stomach, and began clawing impatiently at his pants. The surgeon gasped as Adam's fingers wandered daintily along his exposed backside, as though the freelance photographer were claiming that particular body part as his own.

"You've got a nice ass, Lawrence," Adam grunted, beginning to work on removing his own pants. Lawrence could make no reply, other than another whimper, which actually seemed to satisfy his companion more than a proper answer would have, anyway.

It seemed like hours later when Adam had finally torn his own burdens from his body, and was sitting, completely naked, on top of Lawrence, his legs hanging over each side, almost like he was riding. His hand crept slowly under his lover's body and gripped the pulsing erection there that waited loyally for him.

"Fuck..." Lawrence muttered, both from the feeling of the hand on his cock and from the sensation of Adam's rubbing against his back.

"Don't talk," Adam muttered.  

His warm breath on Lawrence's neck was enough to make that icy feeling in his stomach get even colder. Along with the lust getting even hotter.

They were one and the same now.  

Lawrence nodded. Adam planted that usual, assuring little kiss on the back of his neck, and the older man inhaled subconsciously in an attempt to brace himself for the pain he was so familiar with.  

And then, Adam jammed his erection into him.  

Lawrence lifted the hand that was on the floor and bit in to it to keep himself from crying out.  

_Jesus..._  

"Adam..." he whimpered, in some kind of light-headed, high misery, completely careless about what Adam could do to him for this.  

But Adam was actually kinder than usual. He just leaned forward and ran his slim fingers through his lover's hair.  

"Shhh," he purred into Lawrence's ear. "I won't rape you. Not now."  

No. Adam wouldn't rape him. He'd just roughly thrust himself into him, so hard and so violently that tiny tears would form in his eyes, and he'd bring his teasing hand up and down over his cock, and he'd trace little kisses over his back. And Lawrence would enjoy this just as much as he'd enjoyed the other times.  

Adam filled him up again. And Lawrence had to bite down into his hand again.  

God. Once he'd been a respectable, rich surgeon, once he'd been a faithful husband and a good father...  

And now... He was... This.  

_Maybe this is the person you've been on the inside all along,_ that little voice said.  

_Yeah,_ Lawrence replied. _Maybe. Or Adam's drawn it out of me._  

Adam pulled out. And in again. And it hurt. It was a terrible pain, and Lawrence never wanted it to stop, never ever.

As always happened in situations such as these, Lawrence began to lose all track of time. As far as he knew, he and Adam were just in one massive time warp. The only thing he felt was the young man's teeth, scraping gently against his shoulder, his slow but satisfying strokes on his increasingly painful length, and, most of all, his arousal, plowing mercilessly into him, again and again.

Adam had his eyes squeezed shut and was struggling to suppress small grunts of pleasure as he pulled out of his lover, then pushed back in again, growing rapidly in speed and force as he did so. It was so tight, the freelance photographer doubted that he would ever have been able to force himself into such a small opening if he hadn't been so aroused.

Just as Lawrence had predicted, tears had begun to well up in his eyes, and they were running rapidly down his face, mingling with the sweat there. His body was sweaty, too, as was Adam's, but they were so tightly drawn together that that didn't matter.

Adam had given up on planting small, assuring kisses on the back of the surgeon's body. It was all he could do to keep up the hand-job. He felt the body -- the body that was so much bigger and stronger than his -- convulsing desperately below him as its owner attempted to control himself.

It wasn't long before both men felt themselves becoming lightheaded as the blood seemingly left the rest of their body in order to travel down to more important places. Adam moaned as the familiar feeling of orgasm began to fill his body, making him feel dizzy and faint. Lawrence clenched his fists hard as he felt himself completely giving in to the man above him.

Barely a few minutes after he had started, Adam found himself coming hopelessly onto and into his lover, feeling as he did so that there was no better sensation in the world than what he had just felt. Lawrence managed to hold out only seconds after, and within moments had released liberally into Adam's waiting hand.

Lawrence felt, in his blind state of draining arousal and tiredness, Adam slowly climbing off him and lying down next to him, instead. He felt the tiny body pushing itself, almost imploringly, against his own, and the weak arms wrapping themselves securely around his waist. Somehow, the older man managed to drag his own hands, which felt like they were weighed down by heavy weights, up and embrace his lover back, burying his head tiredly into the soft, brownish-black hair that he'd come to love so much.

_Okay,_ the voice said from some place in Lawrence's head, some place that had been able to keep its feet on the ground as the rest of his mind had been turned off to let only the body speak._ Now, he won't push you away, he'll listen now, because he doesn't have the energy to do anything else. Try again now. Try._  

"Adam," Lawrence said, caressing the kid's hair, and craning his head back to look into his eyes.  

"What?" Adam muttered, and lazily swept his hand away.  

"I really am sorry..."  

Adam cut him off with a theatrical sigh.  

"For God's sake, Lawrence, let it go."  

"You won't let it go."  

"Me?" Adam put his hand on his chest, like he couldn't imagine why Lawrence would say something so insane. "I've let go of it _big_ time. We've already established that you don't mean that much to me, right?"  

Lawrence almost smiled. Because he started to see traces of the Adam he used to know return. The pride was a good start. And the fact that Adam refused to admit that Lawrence had hurt him was a sure sign that he was coming back.  

"Okay," Lawrence said. "I don't mean that much to you. But I hurt you, can't you at least admit that?"  

Adam muttered something and raked his hand through his hair. Then he moved his head a little so that it lay against Lawrence's shoulder.  

"Why would you say that?" he said sharply. "Hearing someone you sleep with saying that he'd kill you again is a fucking picnic. You should try it out sometime."  

His words were knives that mercilessly buried themselves in Lawrence's chest, because he was right. He was right, and that was what hurt, that was what made Lawrence hear his own words again, in his mind, like too many times before. 

"_I should have left you there! I should have left your worthless ass in there to rot like it deserved! I should have _killed_ you with that shot! I shouldn't have given a shit when I thought I had! You're _less_ than a fucking insect, Adam! Less than a fucking _insect_!"_

"That's what I'm saying," Lawrence said pleadingly, mostly to drown out that terrible voice that was his and that he never, never, never wanted to hear again. "I said a fucking stupid thing that I didn't mean. At all. And you have to forgive me, Adam..."  

"Actually, I don't," Adam said calmly. "I don't have to do anything. I don't have to do you any favors, at least. In fact, I could go to the kitchen right now and get my only good knife, and then come back here and slice your foot off again, and I'd still have a hang-up on you."  

Lawrence nodded, in some sort of light-headed, dull understanding. And Adam sat up, leaned over him and took a firm grip on Lawrence's chin to look him in the eye.  

"I don't know if I'm ever going to be able to forgive you," he said in a low voice, but still clearly, like the words were carved into stone, carved into Lawrence's heart by a sharp needle. _"Ever._ And not even you can say that's weird."

Lawrence lay still, his heart screaming, as Adam slowly disentangled himself from the older man and got to his feet, walking stiffly out of the room and into his bedroom. Lawrence had no doubt that the kid wanted to be on his own now, and he wasn't really in a mood to argue, either.

**Aw, Adam's such a hard-to-get. Impressive, since he's also kind of slutty. Anyway, please review! It makes my day. **


	7. Chapter 7

**Yay! It****'****s an update! A little shorter than I would have preferred, but an update all the same! There isn't a lot of smut in this chapter, but there's some cute tender crap. Don't worry, though, because there'll be more smut coming very, very soon. XD**

**7. Memories**

As he slowly redressed, his straining muscles protesting at all the unnecessary pressure that they were being forced to go through, Lawrence found himself at a loss of what he should do. Adam was angry. Very angry. He'd said himself that he might never forgive what the surgeon had said, and Lawrence really couldn't blame him.

Adam had been doing so well. After the two of them had been rescued from the bathroom, the freelance photographer had practically never let Lawrence out of his sight. He'd invited him over to his house every other night, trying to spend as much time with him as possible. And even though he'd had nightmares, even though he'd been unable to go into a bathroom by himself, or sleep in a dark room, he had slowly been getting better. With Lawrence to comfort him, he had been getting better.

But then he'd had to ruin it all. Ruin it all with one stupid remark. A stupid remark that he hadn't even meant, but that had scarred Adam for life.

"Fuck..."

Lawrence ran his fingers through his hair, attempting to straighten it slightly, and sighed. The clothes which he'd clumsily put back on himself were stained with sweat and seamen, but he didn't care. He wanted to do something productive, something that would help Adam.

Since the apartment had seen better days, Lawrence began to accommodate himself by attempting to clean it. First he went around the living room, collecting all of the stray cigarette butts, beer cans, and pizza boxes, and transporting them into plastic bags, which he then took out to the bin outside. He couldn't help thinking as he did so how damn sexy Adam could look, even though pretty much all he ate was takeout.

Once he'd located all of the stray rubbish in the place, which took well over an hour, Lawrence moved onto loose pieces of paper and books. Adam didn't have many books, but it was obvious that the young man had attempted to immerse himself in the few he had at some point.

_Probably when you were with Allison and Diana,_ a low, accusing voice echoed in his head. Lawrence ignored it.

He moved all of the books he found onto Adam's minute bookshelf, then began sorting the paper into small piles, throwing out the blank sheets. Most of the sheets contained small, incoherent doodles, while others had small notes like "pick up laundry at 3" and "Lawrence coming at 6PM" scribbled on them. It was a huge waste of paper if nothing else.

It was about five o'clock when Adam finally came out of his bedroom to see what his lover was doing. By this time, Lawrence had made great progress on the apartment. He'd finished sorting the paper and had begun to dust and sweep the carpet, which was stained with every number of things.

"Free service?" Adam asked sarcastically, leaning against his living room doorframe and regarding the older man skeptically. Lawrence grinned and turned to face him. Needless to say, the kid looked stunning. He had on a very loose, black shirt with short sleeves, and thin, blue shorts that didn't go passed his knees in length. Lawrence felt his face flush at the sight of him, and turned away in order to hide it.

Adam chuckled and took his arm down from the doorframe.

"You look at your wife like that, you naughty little boy?" ge asked teasingly as he walked up to Lawrence.

Lawrence felt the blush on his cheeks get deeper, but he still had to face Adam.

"No. I haven't done that in the past ten years, Adam."

If Adam heard the undertone of seriousness in his voice, he pretended not to, because he just fidgeted a little with the papers that that his boyfriend hadn't thrown out.

_  
Develop pictures, pay rent..._

"Jesus," he said quietly, and Lawrence wondered if he was talking to himself or to him. "It's been a fucking month since I did any of this..."

Lawrence smiled weakly and let his hand brush over Adam's arm.

"Then we might as well throw them out, right?"

Adam looked up at him, with his smile remaining, surprisingly, and nodded.

"If you're going to raid the whole house, I don't really see a reason to why these should stay," he said, almost shamefully, and crumpled the papers he was holding into little balls that he dropped in the garbage bag that stood next to Lawrence's feet.

Lawrence kept smiling. Adam could say whatever he wanted. It still felt like his used-to-be lover had been founded into a big lump of metal that now was getting old and crumbling, and the light that was Adam was now shining through, dazzling Lawrence so that those annoying tears welled up in his eyes again.

He tightened his grip on something in his left hand that he didn't even know he was holding, which coaxed a rustling sound from his fist. Adam sent him a suspicious glance, like Lawrence was hiding something behind his back, and he tried to figure out what it was, pulled the other man's balled-up hand close to him and opened it.

When Lawrence's hand was undone, and the little piece of paper that was in it was visible, Adam picked him up, surveyed it with furrowed brows, and then straightened it out, and Lawrence, who'd actually forgotten what it was, read it over his shoulder.

_Lawrence coming at 6PM._

Yes. Apparently, Lawrence hadn't been able to let go of it. He'd stood there with that in his hand, clutched desperately to it in an attempt to get a grip on the carefree relationship he and Adam had once had, the beautiful past that had once been and that was so far, far away.

Adam rolled the note between his fingers with a small smile lingering over his lips.

"When was this?" he asked, almost whispering, like he barely wanted to admit that he was still talking to Lawrence.

Lawrence squeezed his eyes shut and put a hand on his forehead in an attempt to remember, before the memory came back to him.

"About a month ago," he then said. "When I'd rented "Die Hard," and you got so drunk that you thought Bruce Willis was a girl..."

Adam laughed.

"Well, if I was that drunk, who can blame me for not remembering," he said, without taking his eyes off the note.

Just for a moment.

Just for a moment, they were reunited.

Lawrence had almost started to collect these moments. The moments when Adam was, completely, one hundred percent, _Adam._ Adam, without his masks of fury, Adam, who could actually make love to him, not rape him, Adam, who was the first person in his life that loved him unconditionally and that wasn't this afraid of showing it...

Those moments when Adam actually gave him hope that their relationship could go back to normal.

The only problem was that Adam was very particular about keeping it down to a _moment._ Because just a second later, he looked up, saw the way Lawrence was looking, and hardened. He then cleared his throat nervously and walked up to the front door.

"I'll go get us some dinner," he mumbled, referring to the door. "Keep acting like my little bitch and clean up, okay?"

Lawrence smiled, even though he had to sweep his hand over his eyes to keep those tears from falling.

"Sure. Adam?"

Adam, who'd just put his shoes on and put his wallet in his pocket, looked up at him, reluctantly. Lawrence took a deep breath, tried to inhale the sight of the ruffled, skinny, pale and so terribly, terribly beautiful little boy in front of him, tried to keep the closeness that he bloomed up between them, whether Adam liked it or not.

"I love you."

Adam didn't bite back. He didn't force Lawrence down on his stomach and rape him. His eyes were just widened, his face got even paler for another moment of vulnerability, and he couldn't do anything but nod briefly and open the door. And get out.

But Lawrence still managed to see how the note he'd written slipped down in his pocket.

**AW! Poor Lawrence! He's so nostalgic now! At least he was able to say something to Adam without being raped this time. Argh! Who am I kidding? That's a BAD thing! Rape is so HOT! Anyway, R&R, everyone! Sure, there wasn't any hot rape in this chapter, but if you be nice in your feedback, there probably will be in the next chapter! *Blackmailing.* XD**


	8. Chapter 8

**ARGH! It****'****s been a long, long, LONG time since I****'****ve updated, hasn****'****t it? Don****'****t worry; I****'****m not dead, and I certainly haven****'****t lost interest in Adam/Lawrence! Actually, I****'****d be DEAD before that happened. XD So, I have updates! And, I promise I****'l****l be updating more frequently than I have been for the last six or so months. So, uh... Look forward to that!**

**So, in this chapter, hot things occur! Well, they start to. I end on a cliffhanger, as usual. XD But, if you review, I****'m sure the hotness will continue in the next chapter! :)**

**8. A Different Kind Of Punishment**

"Hey, Lawrence, I'm back!" Adam called, more enthusiastically than he would have wanted. Both his hands full with the Chinese takeout he'd bought, Adam had been forced to put one of the bags down in order to unlock his door. Once he had, he'd stepped into his apartment, kicking the door shut behind him and looking around.

The living room looked amazing. In the short time that the young man been gone, Lawrence had swept the carpet clean until there was not a spot of dirt left, dusted the walls, which had previously been covered in an entire coat of white dust, so that they shone brighter than the floors of the Queen of England's palace, and even straightened the couches and coffee table.

Slightly dumbfounded, Adam made his way through the spotless room and into his kitchen. Just as he had suspected, Lawrence was in there, busily scrubbing the sink, which earlier had had more gunk in it than water. Upon hearing his lover's sandshoes on the newly-cleaned kitchen floor, however, Lawrence turned around, dropping the sponge he'd been using into the sink.

"Oh... Sorry, Adam. I didn't hear you come in."

Lawrence smiled and made his way awkwardly over to the photographer and took one of the bags from his arms.

"Chinese, huh?" he asked, attempting to sound casual. Adam nodded slowly.

"Uh... Yeah. Chinese."

There was a short pause, in which both men shuffled their feet slightly, not knowing what to say. Lawrence began rummaging through the bag he'd taken while Adam looked around the kitchen.

"You're doing a pretty good job," he commented at last, and Lawrence smiled. He looked up from his bag and into the younger man's eyes.

"Thanks."

Once they'd eaten their dinner, Lawrence started picking things off the table as soon as Adam put his plate back down on it. It seemed like he'd almost gotten a phobia about the order in the apartment, now that it actually _was_ clean, even though a tiny voice in his head told him that it actually was Adam who lived there, and that that made it physically impossible for the place to stay tidy for too long.

Adam sighed and put his feet up on the table as soon as Lawrence got up.

"Ever seen 'Desperate Housewives,' Larry?" he asked teasingly as his lover went back in to the kitchen to do the dishes.

Lawrence blushed briefly as he dropped the plates in the sink and started running the water.

"You're going to need someone like that in this household," he called back.

Adam didn't answer. Lawrence just heard him getting to his feet with a sigh and walking back into his bedroom, like eating dinner had drained him of the last of his powers, and now, he couldn't even find the energy to sit on his couch and watch crappy drama shows on the TV.

If they'd had a normal relationship, Lawrence would have followed Adam into his room. He would have lifted the covers and crawled down to him, found his mouth in the darkness, searched with his hand under the sheets until he found his body.

Lawrence sighed and turned the water off. He couldn't do the dishes now. He didn't want to.  
_  
What do you want to do?_

_I want to go to Adam._

_Then he'll punch you in the jaw, and you know that. Do something else. You don't have to do the dishes._

_Thank you, kind voice in my head._

Lawrence wasn't sure how it happened. He probably just wanted something to think about besides Adam, but the next thing he knew, he was walking around in the kitchen, picking things out of the kitchen cabinets, opening packets and containers, and pouring things into bowels and pans until he stood with baking powder and cacao on his shirt and something that almost looked like the mixture of a chocolate cake in front of him.

Lawrence chuckled and started looking around for a baking tin to put the cake into the oven with. Adam may have thought that he tried to buy forgiveness with a blowjob, but a cake wasn't a very big gesture. He should be able to give him that without looking too suspicious.

Adam was lying on his back on top of his bed, seemingly absorbed in a book. Lawrence felt his cheeks flushing when he saw the younger man's bare chest seemingly staring back at him, and his shirt sitting where it had been thrown on the cheap carpet. Upon hearing the surgeon enter, Adam looked up, slowly lowering his book as he did so. He looked somewhat wary, and Lawrence found himself shuffling his feet nervously.

"What's that?" Adam asked slowly, his eyes on the small pan in his lover's hands. Lawrence swallowed and walked a few steps into the room, closing the door behind him.

"Cake batter," he said awkwardly, holding it out for the photographer to see. "I've been making a cake. This was left over."

Adam grunted in pretend disgust and went back to his book.

"Girl," he muttered, the ghost of a smile playing on his lips.

There was a short silence, in which Adam seemed to be reading and Lawrence just stood there, the pan in his hands as he waited. Finally, the young man lowered his book again, placing it on his bedside table, and examined the older man curiously.

"To be honest," he said slowly, moving so that he was propping himself up against his pillows, "I didn't even know I _had_ the ingredients to make cakes."

Lawrence swallowed and made his way nervously over to the bed, hesitated for a moment, then sat down on it beside Adam. He set the pan down on the table, next to the book, which he could now see was The Magician's Nephew, by C.S. Lewis. Adam had marked the page he'd been up to with a leaf-shaped bookmark, which had come free with a magazine he'd bought for him not too long ago.

"Your hands look like they've been dunked in a diarrhea-filled toilet," Adam said bluntly, looking without sympathy at Lawrence's chocolate-stained hands.

Lawrence nodded, averting his gaze. Not just because the sight of a shirtless Adam so close was making more color rush to his face than he would have wanted, but also...

"And believe me, man... I know what _that's_ like."

Lawrence looked up abruptly, stunned. Adam's face was set and serious. He could barely believe it. Neither of them could. This was the first time that the kid had spoken openly about the bathroom, let alone made a joke about it.

Later, Lawrence wasn't sure what had caused him to do what he did next. Maybe it had been the joke, even though it hadn't been so much funny as shocking, or maybe it had been because when the surgeon had looked up to smile into his lover's eyes, he'd seen, showing clearly on his bare shoulder, the scar that he had given him in that horrible, desperate hour that they were both all too familiar with.

But whatever the reason, Lawrence soon found himself with his chocolate-coated arms wrapped tightly around Adam's neck, kissing him in as many places as he could reach. Adam's body was tensed against his, as though its owner was trying to hold back his pleasure.

In a wild kind of impulse, Lawrence found himself lifting one of his hands from Adam's neck and running it slowly along his chest, leaving a long, chocolate line showing clearly against his pale skin. The next moment, the older man had his mouth to the brown patch and was sucking at it furiously, using a maddening kind of hunger that scared even him.

Adam didn't seem to know what he was doing. And neither did Lawrence. His mind had left him. All that was left there was Adam's reluctant moans. The faint and familiar taste of his skin under that of the chocolate. The blurred, lustful happiness of actually getting to gratify _him_ that Lawrence had missed so much. And Adam's hands, which seemed to be moving without his accord, under the collar of the older man, then back down and start fumbling with the buttons of his shirt.

At this point, they were both pretty lost in their desires. Lawrence kept kissing Adam, almost violently, without ever breaking apart from him, his breathing coming in fast and hard and his hands running frantically over every part of the kid's body they could reach. The only times Lawrence let go of his lover was when he ran out of chocolate to suck at, and had to reach out to get more of the batter that stood on the nightstand so that he could put even more sticky prints on the other man's shuddering body.

But suddenly, Adam lifted his hands from where they'd been clawing at his senior's shirt and almost violently grabbed Lawrence's hair, pulling his face away from his skin.

"Lawrence..." he said, in the same shaky voice as before.

Lawrence looked at him through a fog of lust, his hands unable to stop moving over his companion's body, putting brown prints in every place they touched.

"What?" he asked, his voice a husky shadow of what it usually sounded like.

Adam bit his lip to keep from moaning when he felt Lawrence's fingertips graze over his nipples.

"I don't want to... I..."

Lawrence bent down to kiss his neck, just as lightly, just as painfully as the photographer had done to him way too many times.

"Lawrence, don't," Adam said, almost firmly, even as his hands kept moving against the older man's clothed chest. "I'm still pissed at you... I don't want to... do that..."

"You want to," Lawrence said, in a way that could either be interpreted as determined or pleading; he couldn't hear which, and he didn't care either, since he felt Adam melt beneath him. Beneath him, his hands, and his tongue that drew over his chest. "You want to, Adam."

**OMG! Hotness! Yeah, to be honest, licking stuff off each other was something I****'d always wanted to write about. But you think that's bad? In the next chapter, they'll be doing much worse! ^_^ ****Yup! A cliffhanger! God, I****'m such a bitch. But, that's what you all love about me, right? Right? XD**


	9. Chapter 9

**GRRR... How long's it been since I've updated? Six months? And didn't I say I'd be making up for it by updating MORE? ARGH! I'm so sorry, everyone! I'll really try to be more regular with my updates from now on!**

**Oh, and Saw 3D...? Most non-canon piece of tripe I've ever seen. I'm really annoyed with Cary Elwes for having so little respect for himself that he'd go back to that crap. He was nothing like he was in Saw I. If Lion's Gate thinks it can get rid of us ChainShippers that easily, it's sadly mistaken!**

**So, in this chapter... Well, I hope you all like bondage. Not MAJOR bondage, but a little bondage. *Blushes.* Come on! I deserve this! I haven't updated for a while! XD**

**9. Back To Normal**

Another light moan escaped Adam as the surgeon's lips opened against his shoulder, slightly sucking his pale, soft skin, and, just like Lawrence had done earlier, he seemed to be having an emotional battle with his pride and his lust.

_Little Adam,_ Lawrence thought as he lightly stroked the kid's sides. _I know how it feels. By God, I know how it feels._

Adam groaned as Lawrence's lips kept going over his body, over his chest where there wasn't any batter, and he slowly seemed to let the lust get the best of him as he squeezed his eyes shut and allowed the hand that wasn't now slowly undoing Lawrence's shirt buttons to travel over the other's neck.

Lawrence was surprised how willingly Adam gave in. He, who was usually so stubborn and proud that he almost made Lawrence _beg_ to touch him, and now... He was sucking chocolate cake better off of his body, and Adam was giving in like a drunken whore. He did seem a little hazed from the lack of sleep and from the crying he'd undergone when he'd thought Lawrence hadn't been able to hear him, but still.

Lawrence traced his kisses upwards, up against Adam's neck and made his mouth fall open as he ran his tongue across his earlobe before the younger man gasped and grabbed a handful of Lawrence's hair. He pulled his face up against his, his mouth seeking its way to his companion's, wanting it, craving it. He was searching for salvation, for something that would sooth his anxiety, his despaired, unwanted lust, because even if Adam was still furious at Lawrence, his lips didn't know; his lips would never understand that anger could overcome desire. His lips would always love him.

That was the reason they'd spent the past two days the way they had, Lawrence suddenly realized. Adam could've stopped talking to him, could've ignored him completely, like _normal_ people would when they wanted to punish someone for something they'd said. Because it wasn't just the want to punish him that had made Adam torture him that way.

It was the memories. Perhaps Adam would be able to forget the memories of Lawrence himself in a while. But the memories of Lawrence's kisses, of his body, of his safe, warm hands on his shivering body... They were burned into his flesh. They were like painted hand-prints on him, and they'd live with him until the day he died.

Adam pressed his waiting lips against Lawrence's, forced his tongue into his mouth, allowed them to roam each other as Lawrence's hand went from his waist to his thigh, stroking it and coaxing another moan from the man beneath him.

"Lawrence," Adam choked out as he broke the kiss, leaning his forehead against his, his eyes still closed.

The older man smiled to himself when he heard the affection in the photographer's voice. Even though he knew that this wouldn't last, it was still reassuring.

Gently, Lawrence pulled his head away from Adam's and leaned over to bedside table to take another handful of batter from the nightstand in one of his hands and rub it lovingly into Adam's chest. He pressed his lips to it, sucking and tasting the other man greedily. He felt drunk, almost surreal, as the younger man weakly brought his hands up to embrace Lawrence around the neck, forcing his head deeper into his body as he did so.

God... As unbelievable as it was, the surgeon had never felt so turned on before in his life. The way Adam's body shuddered violently beneath his, as the young man tried desperately to keep his moans and whimpers to a minimum, the familiar taste of skin, mixed with the sweet chocolate, and, most of all, the very _thought_ of what they were doing, made Lawrence want to release there and then.

Never, in his entire life, had Lawrence suspected that he would be doing this kind of thing to someone. He wasn't the type who was interested in bondage or aphrodisiacs, and he knew that Adam wasn't, either. But somehow, what had happened between them - not just the fight, but most-likely their ordeal in that bathroom, as well - had changed them. Now, all they desired was each other, and they wanted to get closer, as close as was humanly possible.

Adam let out a hoarse moan when Lawrence's tongue brushed up against one of his nipples, and his hands fell limp from his lover's neck. Just a few inches away from where his mouth was working, the older man could feel Adam's heart pounding furiously in his chest.

The next moment, Lawrence had pulled himself away from the shuddering body and was sitting upright. He tore furiously at the shirt that still clung stubbornly to his body, which Adam hadn't managed to completely remove. In fact, he'd only managed to undo two of the seven buttons and mess up the collar a bit, but, considering how light the kid's head had been when he'd been doing this, Lawrence couldn't really fault him.

Finally, he managed to get the accursed thing off, and was able to be as exposed around his torso as his lover. Smiling, Lawrence lay back down on top of Adam and moved himself up to his quivering face. He let his hands slip carelessly down Adam's body, moving slowly over his body but obviously heading towards his shorts. The younger man opened his eyes slowly, and stared his companion right in the face.

Lawrence let his lips brush up gently against Adam's, tasting that wonderfully familiar and erotic flavor of tobacco and cheap takeout, and Adam kissed him back, lifting his arms once more to grip his lover around his body, pressing the two even more closely together.

Without even breaking the connection between their lips, Lawrence let the fingers of one hand dance over the smaller man's hips, then further down to the rim of his shorts until two of them were hooked in it.

Adam's breath caught in his throat, and Lawrence felt an almost sadistic joy burn in him when he saw an awful lot of color rush to the face his lips were pressed against. Adam wouldn't say no to him now. No matter how much he wanted to. No way.

Adam didn't seem to agree, though. Clenching his teeth, he took a firm grip on the older man's wrist, more firm than Lawrence thought him capable of in his current condition, and looked hard into his eyes.

_"Don't,"_ he hissed. His eyes were flaming with a mixture of desire and a fear of showing it. "Lawrence... Don't do... that..."

Lawrence smiled faintly and lifted his his other hand up, running it over the photographer's ribs, over his nipples, and couldn't help but smile when he saw Adam bite his lips, squeeze his eyes shut, do everything he could to keep from moaning, or arch into the touch of someone he almost hated.

Lawrence bent down and kissed him gently. At least, as gently as he could with those red, hot waves rocking through him.

"Adam," he said slowly, carefully. "If you really don't want me to, I won't, but... I still think you want to."

Adam sighed. It was probably meant to sound annoyed, but it was a little too shaky, a little too weak to manage that. Lawrence managed to think that he'd give anything to know what Adam thought when his eyes were closed, but then they were opened again, and they'd gone from angrily burning to an easily controlled, smoldering ember.

"I will make you _suffer_ for this, Lawrence," Adam said in a dull voice.

And then, all Lawrence's ponderings over what he was thinking went away. Because Adam let go of his hand and moved it up to Lawrence's neck to push his face down against his own again, kissing him hungrily, and Lawrence took that as an opportunity to finally pull down those annoying shorts, followed instantly by his boxers.

Lawrence couldn't keep himself from moaning into the kiss when he felt the familiar sensation of Adam's pulsing erection that he finally managed to close his fingers around. Adam seemed to do his best to keep his breathing normal - not too hard, not too fast - and Lawrence felt his usual mean joy over this.

Adam sighed weakly and dug his fingers into the Lawrence's shoulders when his servicer pulled up, and then down again in a careful, experimental motion, and Lawrence replied by moving his other hand down, down to Adam's waist, sneaking his arm around him and tugging him up, against his own body.

For a brief second, he actually thought things would be okay, that Adam, in some miraculous way, had forgiven him, that he'd turn into his old sarcastic, wonderful self again, that he'd forgotten what Lawrence had said. Somehow. But that wasn't the case. Of course it wasn't.

Afterwards, Lawrence would wonder how he could have been so stupid that he'd even _hoped_ for such a thing.

Because, the next second, Adam had grabbed Lawrence's hand, hard. And now, Lawrence didn't even try to talk back, because now, Adam's eyes shone with something that almost looked like hatred.

"_No_," he said firmly. "No fucking way. Okay?"

Lawrence nodded slowly.

"Okay."

"Actually," Adam said, and now, he had that expression on his face that Lawrence had learned to detest. "I have other plans for you."

And once again, Lawrence had no idea how it happened. But either way, Adam managed. In the fraction of a second, Adam had done some sort of maneuver, so that Lawrence was on the bottom, face-down and nailed fast by Adam's legs, terrified and aroused, filled with hate for himself and for Adam for making him feel this way, and Adam was on the top, smirking down at his prisoner.

"What are you doing?" Lawrence mumbled, trying his hardest to make his voice sound normal. He tried to turn his head enough to see his lover, without trying to seem like he was attempting to put up a fight.

Adam leaned down and planted a kiss on Lawrence's neck.

"Don't worry your pretty little head with that, doctor. Just lie still and do as I say, and everything will work out."

And Lawrence nodded, even though he had big trouble believing that anything at all would get better if he did as Adam said. Adam sat up and reached over to the beside table, just as Lawrence had been doing when he'd been collecting the batter.

Lawrence guessed the kid wanted to take his turn at that now, if only to regain the dominant edge he'd attained over the last two days. He heard Adam open a drawer on the table and start rummaging in its contents. Lawrence had no idea what he was looking for, but he didn't trust himself to look. He'd have to move his head too much, and he knew Adam wouldn't like that.

Finally, Adam seemed to have found what he was looking for, as Lawrence once again felt the younger man's attention turn to him. He lay back down on top of him, positioning himself so that his mouth was right to Lawrence's ear. What he said next sent shivers down the surgeon's naked spine.

"Put your hands behind your back, Larry," Adam hissed in his ear. Lawrence felt his stomach drop.

"Wh-Why do you want me to-"

His words were abruptly cut off when he felt the younger man's teeth clench hard against his earlobe. He gasped, feeling tears of pain coming into his eyes.

"Shut the fuck up and do what I say," Adam growled, his voice barely audible behind his rage and arousal.

Lawrence clenched his teeth and proceeded with his lover's command, and cupped his hands together behind his back. The next moment, he felt Adam's hands against his, and some kind of rough fabric being wrapped tightly around his wrists. His face flushed as he realized what the kid was doing.

"Adam..." he whimpered, despairing as he felt himself breaking out in multiple goosebumps of pleasure. The freelance photographer grunted and finished the knot, then pulled at it a little to test its strength. Obviously satisfied, he moved himself so that his face was barely an inch was Lawrence's. The older man could feel his lover's warm breath, low and husky, against the back of his neck.

"I told you I'd make you suffer for this, Larry," Adam murmured, and ran his fingers slowly down the surgeon's exposed back. Lawrence tensed his body in an attempt to stop himself from arching up, into the touch.

Adam continued letting one hand travel downwards, while with the other, he gently began to stroke the back of his companion's neck. Lawrence felt himself relax slightly as expert fingers brushed up against his collarbone, soothingly, almost reassuringly.

Adam's hand reached the other man's pants, and Lawrence immediately tensed again, instinctively tugging at the fabric that bound his wrists. Adam ignored the older man's struggles and slowly, almost tauntingly, pulled the expensive pants that covered him down, followed by his boxers.

Lawrence bit into his lip, desperately, as he felt his now-exposed cock, pressed against the sheets of the bed, harden considerably. But Adam wasn't interested in that. Slowly, lovingly, the younger man ran his hand along his lover's backside, allowing his fingers to brush up against the smooth, sensitive skin.

Lawrence made another frantic attempt to escape his bonds, but it was impossible. Adam had tied the knots far too well, and in his current condition of arousal and fear, the surgeon doubted that he would have been able to resist, anyway.

"You really do have a nice ass, you know," Adam muttered against the back of Lawrence's neck, before pressing his lips to it and kissing the skin along his collarbone.

After enjoying the familiar taste of skin for a few moments, Adam suddenly pulled away and once again reached over to the bedside table. His hand searched its surface rather than its drawer where he'd gotten the fabric from. This time, Lawrence tried to turn his head to see what the younger man was looking for, but Adam quickly extended his other hand and pushed his face back into the pillow, blocking his view completely.

A few seconds later, Lawrence felt a hard, cold surface rub slowly against his backside, and he realized that what the photographer had retrieved was a hairbrush. A strong, oak hairbrush, which he remembered giving him shortly after they'd met, in an attempt to get the kid to try to straighten his wild, stubborn hair once in a while.

"A-Adam..." Lawrence moaned, unable to keep the note of lust out of his voice. Adam let go of his head and moved so that he was half-sitting on top of his lover, straddling him with his legs so that the older man could clearly feel his arousal rubbing against him.

"I'm going to make you suffer, Lawrence," Adam murmured huskily, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'm going to beat that pretty ass of yours until you learn to show me a bit of respect."

The next moment, Lawrence felt Adam's rough hands around his head, forcing it up. He felt another piece of cloth, much coarser than the one binding his hands, half-stuffed into his mouth, then wrapped carefully around his head, preventing its wearer from making any intelligible sounds, even though he tried to.

"And you're going to keep your witty mouth shut," Adam concluded quietly, finishing the knot on the gag. "Because nothing you say or do now is going to stop me."

And with those words, Adam raised his makeshift gabble and struck it hard against Lawrence's exposed ass.

**Hehe! I hope you enjoyed the bondage and spanking, because I sure did! ...Yeah, I know I'm going to Hell when I die. XD**


	10. Chapter 10

**GASP! Two updates in one day? Well, consider it an apology for lack of updates! Besides, I just couldn't leave the spanking alone! It's too freaking hot!**

**10. A Sick Kind Of Pleasure**

Lawrence only just managed to bite back a groan of surprise and pain as the hard wood hit the sensitive skin between his legs. Adam seemed disappointed by his lover's lack of sound, and proceeded to hit him again, much harder this time. Again, the surgeon managed to suppress any noises, even though at the same time, he could feel his penis, pressed painfully against the bed, throbbing horribly in anticipation.

God... He really was sick to be so turned on by this. And Adam was sick to be doing it to him, no matter how much pain the older man had caused him. The idea of being bound and gagged, and pummeled by a man who was barely an adult should have disgusted him. But it didn't. It made him struggle not to moan in pleasure, or pull at his bonds in a fruitless attempt to stifle some of his blinding arousal.

The third hit was harder than the other two. It smacked against Lawrence's ass, hard enough to break through several layers of skin, and this time, the victim was unable to stop himself from whimpering, even though he hated himself for it. Adam seemed to be somewhat satisfied with this, however, as the next few blows he raised to his lover were no where near as hard as the others.

Lawrence bit desperately into the gag, trying to prevent any more pathetic sounds, but they kept coming, just like Adam's spanks, and even though it shouldn't have been arousing in the least bit, the older man soon found himself rubbing himself against the bed, almost humping it, in an attempt to ease his throbbing erection.

But once again, Adam bent down, and Lawrence bit even harder into his muzzle when the familiar teeth were buried in his earlobe once again, like Lawrence, just by this, had broken Adam's rules, the rules that were now even more serious than the rules in the bathroom.

The only difference was that Lawrence got bitten instead of electrocuted when he broke them.

"Remember the rules," Adam purred into his ear. "And please don't make this harder for yourself than it already is."

Then he straightened up, and Lawrence could hear the swooching sound from the brush as it whistled through the air before it struck him again, and Lawrence whimpered, not so much because it hurt as because it was humiliating, it was so fucking humiliating, and he felt Adam's sadistic smirk like a tingling in the back of his head, and that was humiliating, too, because Adam loved this, and Lawrence did, too. And that was worst of all.

And what was even worse was the fact that the next second, Lawrence spoke, still muffled by the gag, and it was words that he barely realized that he said, maybe because they came from the darkest, hottest, deepest bit of lust that he didn't even know he had inside himself and that could get past any muzzle in the world.

"Please..."

Adam's grin got wider, he felt it, when the hairbrush struck his ass again.

"Adam... Please..."

"I thought I told you to shut up," Adam said inscrutably and hit him again. "Didn't I tie you up hard enough?"

Lawrence ignored him.

"I'm _begging_ you, Adam..."

"You're pathetic," Adam said, almost merrily, and raised the brush again. "Tell me you're pathetic."

The hairbrush went down again, and tiny tears formed in Lawrence's eyes. He had to bite down even harder into the gag to stretch it enough to be able to say the thing that he hadn't even known he'd had the guts to say, anyway.

"You want to, Adam. I still know you do. And I want to, too... So please..."

Lawrence expected another hard spank with the brush after saying this, but to his surprise, it didn't come. Slowly, not just because he didn't want to provoke Adam but also because his arousal was making him move at a snail's pace, the surgeon turned his head slightly in an attempt to get a glimpse of the younger man.

Adam's face was pale, more pale than usual, and his eyes were black and empty. He discarded his makeshift gabble, throwing it softly onto the floor, and gripped the older man with both hands, as though he'd fall apart if he didn't.

It was a brief, vulnerable moment. Another one to add to the list. But like all of the kid's moments, it didn't last very long. The next moment, Lawrence felt his head shoved down into the pillow again, and Adam crawling completely on top of him.

His ass still burned with the rough treatment it had been given, and there were even brief stabs of pain from inside it that Lawrence acquainted with the inordinate number of penetrations that the younger man had given him. But he didn't care about that, either. All he cared about was Adam, sitting above him, just as the older man had been ready to crack.

Subconsciously, Lawrence took a deep breath. This had almost become a routine for him by now, but this time, the tiny part of him that was still thinking let him down. Because Adam didn't penetrate him right away.

Instead, his tiny hand gripped Lawrence's hair once more, pulled his head up, and Adam's mouth was furiously pressed against his, his teeth drew blood from old cuts on Lawrence's lips, and he tasted that warm, metallic thing that, just like all the other times, almost made him sick with want, like he'd melt away under Adam's hands.

And that feeling didn't even go away when Adam broke the kiss and leaned his forehead against Lawrence's in a brief moment of redemption.

"You're damn lucky," he muttered with his eyes closed. "I'm nice today. I know it doesn't seem like it, but you know I could do worse things to you. Right?"

Lawrence nodded gruffly, and took this moment, this frozen moment when Adam couldn't see, to drink in the sight of his clenched jaw, his ruffled hair, the shadows his eyelashes made over his cheeks.

Because he knew it would soon be gone.

And he knew Adam was right.

And the next second, it got even clearer. Because then, Adam pulled back again, Lawrence felt his hands on his hips and his little body on top of his own, his breath on his neck, and then, that blinding pain and lust when Adam forced himself into him.

It still felt like someone had jammed a sword up in him. Lawrence caught himself wishing it didn't feel like this to girls, because if it did, he'd never be able to live with himself knowing the pain he'd caused Allison.

_Like that could entitle everything you've done in your life,_ that venomous little voice in his head said.

It was right. As usual.

Adam pulled out of him. And then in again. Lawrence's body convulsed into the mattress.

It hurt. It hurt a terrible, terrible lot.

But maybe it was the fact that he deserved it that made it feel so fucking good.

Lawrence had managed to push the gag down significantly with his tongue so that it hung awkwardly from his chin, but even so he didn't dare to make any sounds, other than the occasional grunt or whimper, even though every muscle in his body was yelling at him to moan and sob.

Adam certainly wasn't making efforts to stifle his cries of pleasure and satisfaction as he mercilessly plowed into his lover, again and again, using both his arms and his legs to buck himself against him. Lawrence's penis still screamed for release, and with his hands bound behind him, the surgeon was completely at the younger man's mercy. Even with the blinding pain of that impossibly large cock penetrating his minute opening, Lawrence still couldn't help thinking about that.

His mind went blank from the feeling of Adam filling him, his penis rubbing roughly against his prostate every now and then, which was enough to keep the tears rolling down Lawrence's face and make his body convulse horribly.

God, it hurt. It hurt like Hell. But he still enjoyed it. He enjoyed it because it hurt. And that was the worst part.

Eventually - it could have been one minute later, or one hundred, neither knew which - Adam gave a long, gravelly sigh of contentment and released all over his companion's backside. Lawrence slowly came to himself as he realized that the process was over. He could feel a mild stinging sensation between his legs from where his lover had been working - not overly painful, even though the older man knew that it eventually would be.

It took Lawrence some time to realize that his penis was still erected, still stinging with anticipation. He moaned slowly and instinctively tried to move one of his hands down to clutch at his most sensitive body part, but then realized that he was still tied up. Just as he'd realized this, he felt Adam's rough hands on his body, forcing him around, onto his back. The surgeon gasped in pain as feeling was once again brought back into his ass, reminding him of all the layers of skin that he'd probably lost during that "punishment session," not to mention the fact that his asshole had probably expanded to at least three times its normal size since the kid's last insertion.

Lawrence almost fearfully opened his eyes, and stared up at Adam with an expression that could have been anger, but at the moment looked like nothing but submission and pleading. Adam smirked and gently undid the cloth from around the older man's chin, tossing it aside and then moving his hand up to stroke the sweaty hair out of his lover's face.

Lawrence had hoped that the photographer would have untied his hands after this, but no such luck. Adam clearly liked having him in such a helpless position. Lawrence forced back a moan of pleasure as one of Adam's knees brushed gently against his rapidly-hardening cock, his expression a mixture of triumph and scorn as he did so.

"Well, well..." Adam murmured in a tut-tut-like manner, continuing to stoke Lawrence's forehead while still rubbing his leg less-than-satisfyingly against his erection. "Kind of a bad position to be in, huh? Especially since I'm so angry right now that I'm not even sure if I should relieve you."

Lawrence felt that familiar fear, like a block of ice had been dropped in his stomach, but he did his best not to show it. Their lovemaking had become a struggle to him and a game to Adam, like rabbit chasing. Like a way to see how far he could push Adam before he snapped.

Like the game in the bathroom.

Lawrence squeezed his eyes shut for a brief second, then slowly opened his mouth and said:

"You... have to."

Adam smirked and pressed his knee against his erection again, and Lawrence didn't even try to keep himself from moaning when he felt that milling, warm ache between his legs get even worse.

"I have to?" Adam murmured, and ran his tongue lightly over his senior's earlobe. "What will you do if I don't?"

Lawrence bit his bottom lip. As if Adam hadn't done that enough times already.

"I will... scream."

"You will?" Adam said in fake surprise, planting little kisses over the older man's neck, his jaw line, his cheek. "What else will you do?"

"I will cry," Lawrence said, squirming around helplessly. If it was to get away from Adam's taunting little lips or to get closer to them, he didn't know, and it really didn't matter, since it usually was a little both now days. "And I will... beg."

"Really?" Adam said, and now, his tiny hands moved up and down over his body, under his shirt and greedily felt the naked skin there. "And what are you doing right now?"

Lawrence body was confused; it didn't know if it should arch into the teasing fingers on his nipples or the knee pressed against his crotch. Everything was such a blur of hot and black and shame and lust, he was barely aware of the one, choked out word that escaped his lips.

"Begging."

He felt Adam grin against his neck. And then he felt that little hand moving downwards until it finally, _finally_ gripped his cock.

"That's what I thought," Adam said, his grin lingering in sadistic triumph.

**Cliffhanger again, huh? Well, I can assure you all of one thing: What comes next will be HOT. Not that spanking isn't hot, too, but you get the idea. And damn, I LOVE dominant Adam! He deserves to be dominant sometimes, doesn't he? Well, R&R, and I'll be a very happy pervert! ^_^**


	11. Chapter 11

**ARGH! You guys! I am SO sorry I haven't updated in over a year! There's no excuse for it. Real life was kicking my ass, and I had so many unfinished chapters of both old and new fics, it was hard to motivate myself to fill in the gaps so I could post them. Also, I'm a huge perfectionist, so I always feel the need to proofread my chapters, which is hard to do for me sometimes. Anyway, rest assured that I'll have lots more updates around the corner (Adam and Lawrence forever, damn it! :D), so look forward to those. :) Thank you so much for sticking with me this long, everyone!**

**I hope this chapter is okay. This fic is almost finished, and I'm not sure if there will be any more sex scenes in it. ...Wait! Don't go! XD There'll be some adorable angst in the next chapter, so I'm sure you'll all love that. I know I do. ;)**

**11. The Future**

Lawrence forced himself to keep still - not squirm, not arch; just lie there - as Adam's fingers slowly ran across the base of his head. His other hand, he slowly ran up the older man's chest, across his neck, until he finally let it settle on his flaming cheek. Lawrence barely noticed.

As Adam delivered another long, gratifying stroke down his lover's penis, Lawrence gave out a long, hoarse moan of blissful pleasure, pressing his body hard down into the bed to stop himself from arching up against the photographer. Adam gave a relaxed, almost lazy nip against Lawrence's neck and muttered, "Shut up," while still, mercifully, jerking him off.

Lawrence clenched his teeth and forced himself to obey, even though his ears were roaring and his eyes were stinging, and his body was begging silently to struggle against Adam's, simply because the damned kid was taking so long to satisfy it.

Adam continued kissing and sucking along his lover's collarbone, not overenthusiastically, since he himself had just orgasmed minutes ago and thus he was not in an overly energetic mood. Lawrence closed his watering eyes and began to shudder, violently, as his own climax began to reach him more quickly.

Adam barely seemed to notice. He just kept up with the handjob, almost too bored to enjoy Lawrence's powerlessness.

Lawrence gasped, Adam's rules left him temporarily, and he gripped his shoulder, buried his nails in his skin and whimpered like a child when he came into Adam's hand.

Adam rolled down from him. His hand was soiled, Lawrence thought he wiped it off on the sheets, but he couldn't really tell. His head was only barely above the water.

But he did feel Adam laying his head on his shoulder, an arm coiling around his waist and a final kiss being planted on his neck, and he took this as an opportunity to put his own arm around Adam's back, in another moment of redemption.

That was as close to Adam as he got now days.

You know you have a twisted picture of the reality when you wake up and are happy that no one has tied you to the bedpost.

Lawrence moaned when the bruises on his wrists were brought to his attention. He subconsciously moved his hand to those places on his arm, the places that throbbed angrily and where the rope burns shone in alarmingly purple and red.

Ah, well. At least he wasn't tied up.

Adam wasn't next to him. But for once, Lawrence wasn't worried that he'd killed himself. He knew Adam wouldn't do that. What made him worried was the fact that he didn't know what would happen. Not to him. And not to Adam.

And that was the first time that had ever happened. Lawrence had had his whole life spelled out for him. Always. He _would_ be a doctor, he _would_ get married to a beautiful, blonde woman, he _would_have a baby. Period.

But now, he was lost, and not even Adam was there to support him.

The second Lawrence thought that, Adam walked in the bedroom door. He wore a tattered robe. His face was blank, and he had a bottle of disinfectant and a few cotton balls in his hand.

He pretended not to see Lawrence's confused expression when he sat down in front of him and placed the bottle next to him.

"Sit up," he said in a clipped tone.

Lawrence was too tired and confused to disobey. When he sat up, Adam pulled his one hand closer, put some disinfectant on one of the cotton balls, and brought it to the stinging wound on his lover's wrist.

Lawrence gave a slight hiss of pain when the burning sensation of the creamy-like substance rubbed up against his raw skin. Adam ignored this and continued padding the wound, almost gently.

Lawrence silently cursed himself for his weakness. He was a doctor, after all; he spread this kind of stuff onto patients almost every day. Well, not _this_ stuff, exactly, but still things that would sting just as much as what Adam was using now. The older man almost smiled when he saw the photographer reach for a band-aid on his nightstand, then place it clumsily against the now-cleaned wound.

Having done that, Adam began to tend to the other hand, which was far more severely cut for some reason. Lawrence managed to keep silent when Adam rubbed some more disinfectant against his other wrist, but it still hurt. Really, someone had to invent a kind of antiseptic that didn't sting. Thinking that this would help to break the ice somewhat, Lawrence said this out loud to Adam, who smiled slightly.

"Well, you're the doctor, aren't you?" he quipped, still running his cotton ball against the angry marks on his lover's hand. "Why don't you invent it?"

Lawrence gave a small smile of relief at this and almost laughed out loud.

"I dunno. I'm too lazy, I suppose. Ow! Fuck!"

He let out the last two words as violent exclamations. Adam's wandering healing hands - or more specifically, the cotton that they held - had just brushed against a particularly sensitive patch of skin on his wrist.

Adam grinned and tightened his grip on Lawrence's wrist. In some way, he seemed to think of Lawrence like a stupid little boy who had tried to pull the hand out of his grasp, and it annoyed him. Lawrence was used to Adam being the child of the two of them.

"Sissy," Adam said mockingly and looked at the cleansed wound with furrowed brows. "You're the sure proof that all great men are raised like mama's boys."

Lawrence blushed weakly.

"Stop it. It _does_hurt."

Adam slowly shook his head and threw the cotton ball aside.

"We both know you've felt pain that's a hundred times worse than this, Lawrence," he said quietly and finally looked up at him.

And for a second, everything came back to Lawrence. It had never truly left him. But for a second, it all came back so strongly that he almost felt the saw move over his ankle.

Allison's voice in the phone. The light flowing down from the fluorescent lights. Zep's eyes staring down on him.

Adam.

Adam put, without too much care, another band-aid on Lawrence's wrist. Then, he got up, Lawrence's gaze following every move he made, and it was possible that he was pale, that his eyes were widened and that his mouth slowly opened and closed, but he didn't know, didn't care.

Adam smiled.

He actually smiled. And his one hand was laid on Lawrence's cheek with a tenderness that he'd never felt from him before, not even before he fucked everything up, crushed everything under the foot of his own perfection.

"I will never be able to forgive you," Adam said slowly. "But I think I'll be able to stop being mad at you."

He paused. Lawrence didn't know if this should make him sad or happy, until Adam opened his mouth and spoke up again.

And before Lawrence actually managed to show any direct reaction to these words, Adam had leaned down, stroked his bangs aside and placed a gentle kiss on his forehead.

And then he was gone, leaving Lawrence alone in the room again.

**AW! Adam, you're so sweet, even when you're sadistic. XD Anyway, please R&R, everyone! ...That is, if you didn't think I was dead. ;)**


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